


We'll Light Up The Sky

by BlueMoonChild3



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alpha Lucius Malfoy, Alpha Severus Snape, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Magical Pregnancy, Magical manipulations, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Mpreg, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Harry Potter, Omega Hermione Granger, Potions, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:48:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 29,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25638304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueMoonChild3/pseuds/BlueMoonChild3
Summary: Story takes places in The Golden Trio's fifth year at Hogwarts, just after Hermione leads Umbridge to the the centaurs. Harry's trip to the Ministry to rescue Sirius takes a different turn when Hermione puts her foot down.Hermione's 17 because of her Time-Turning in third yearThe Score - 'Till The Stars Burn Blue' - youtube.comAs always, I do not own the rights to these characters...just borrowing them for a bit
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter (Friendship), Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Lucius Malfoy/Severus Snape, Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 226
Kudos: 535





	1. Chapter 1

The sounds of Umbridge's screamed threats, as she was dragged by the centaurs deeper into the gloom of the Forbidden Forest, were just starting to fade away in the distance when Harry grabbed Hermione by the arm and started pulling her back towards Hogwarts.

"Come on, Hermione!" he said with a touch of panicked urgency in his voice, "We need to get back to the castle, find Ron and the others, get to the Ministry and rescue Sirius."

He had barely taken two more steps before he found himself disarmed and in a Full-Body-Bind. Turning his head as far as he dared, Harry glared at the bushy-haired witch and yelled, "Bloody Hell, Hermione! What are you playing at? Let me go, we have to..."

She cut him off with a stern look of her own as she growled, "No, Harry. I've told you, repeatedly, that this isn't a good plan, that it's likely a trap. Besides, Professor Snape has probably already sent a message to the Order. They'll be at the Ministry by now, let them take care of things."

Not listening to her words of reason, Harry began to beg, "Please, Hermione," his forehead creased with worry, "Sirius is the last family I have left who knew my parents. I can't risk losing him, too."

He continued to plead with Hermione for another five minutes before she let out a heavy sigh, "Fine! I'll help you, Harry, BUT, we are going to do things my way, for once. Which means only you and I are going to the Ministry."

"But, Hermione..." Harry started to protest only to have Hermione Silencio him.

"No, Harry," she repeated, poking him the chest with her index finger, "You know as well as I do, that the more people that are dragged along in this ill-advised adventure of yours, the greater the chances are that we'll all get caught or injured," the 'or killed' was left unsaid. With a quick swish of her hand, she wordlessly cancelled the spells on Harry then conjured up a mage light to guide them through the deepening shadows.

"Can I have my wand back?" Harry asked as they followed the softly glowing orb through the trees.

"Not until we get to London," she replied, urging him along the faint path before they lost sight of it in the rapidly growing dark.

Ten minutes later, they emerged from the forest near what would appear to most magical folk was an empty paddock. But, to Hermione and Harry, the moderate-sized corral was full of....

"Thestrals?!" gasped Harry, having only just started seeing the creatures during the carriage ride to school this year.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Yes, Harry, Thestrals. They're how we're going to get to London. Now, please be quiet and don't move," she hiss-whispered before entering the enclosure and moving slowly towards one of the oily-black beasts.

"But, Hermione what..." Harry started to ask before, once again, he found himself restrained and silenced.

"Sorry, Harry, but you left me no choice," Hermione muttered, returning her wand to her wand holster. 

As The-Boy-Who-Lived watched with widening eyes, his petite friend began her careful approach, one hand outstretched and head bowed. Eventually, Hermione was half an arms length away when she stopped in her tracks and waited for the skeletal horse-like creature to respond.

The large two-year-old colt knickered as he watched the girl inching nearer, letting out a snort just as she paused.

Hermione barely breathed as the massive, to her, beast walked forward and nuzzled her hand, signaling that she was acceptable.

Seconds seemed to drag by as Harry strained to hear what Hermione was saying but, she was too far away and talking too softly to make out the words. Eventually, she turned and wandlessly Finite'd her spells on her fellow Gryffindor and waved him over to the colt who was kneeling so that they could, more easily, climb onto his back.

Transfiguring a leaf into a saddle blanket and imbuing it with cushioning and sticking charms, she placed in on the Thestral just past his wings. "He's agreed to take us," she whispered, indicating to Harry to take the spot behind her.

When the two teenagers were comfortably settled, the great beast took a few running steps, becoming airborne with little effort despite the added passengers.

('Finally,' thought Harry, grabbing onto Hermione's shoulders for balance, "We're on our way to rescue Sirius').

* * *

They travelled in relative silence for about five minutes before Harry leaned in closer to Hermione, "What were you whispering to the Thestral back there in the paddock?" he asked, curiosity finally getting the better of him.

"Nothing much," she replied, shifting her weight slightly to the right to signal to the winged creature to turn South, "I simply explained to Thorne that you had a family emergency and we had no other way to travel and he offered to take us."

Something about this bit of information was unsettling to Harry, "Ummm, how do you know his name is Thorne?"

Hermione shrugged, "He told me, of course."

"What?...I mean how?....Bollocks!" Harry spluttered, his fingers tightening on her shoulder, "Since when can you communicate with animals, Hermione?"

She let out a deep sigh before answering, "I don't know how it happened, Harry, but ever since the second task in the Tri-Wizard Tournament last year, I found I understood beast-speak."

"Why keep something important like this a secret from me and Ron?" Harry grumbled, a deep frown creasing his brow.

"Honestly? I thought I was losing my mind, at first," she scowled, her back tensing from the memory, "Then, I considered it may have been a weird side-effect from that potion I was given before Dumbledore put me and the others in Black Lake. And, I kept it a secret from everyone, not just you and Ron."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you," he apologized, moving his arms to her waist to give her an awkward hug, "It just seems like everyone's been keeping things from me this year, especially, the Headmaster." After a few steadying breaths, he continued, "Can you talk to all beasts?"

"No," replied Hermione, casting a warming charm over herself and Harry to stave off the growing chill, "So far its just, Dragons, Thestrals, Unicorns, Hippogryphs and Abraxans...oh, and Fawkes."

"But, not your cat? That doesn't seem fair," teased Harry, relishing in the sudden relief from the cool night air from Hermione's spell.

Hermione rolled her eyes, although Harry couldn't see the gesture, "No, with Crookshanks, I have to gauge his meanings through his actions, body language, and vocalizations."

"To bad you can't speak to snakes," said Harry, touching his forehead to Hermione's back for comfort, "It would be nice to know that someone else besides me and Lord No-Nose could do it."

"I promise to let you know if Parseltongue becomes part of my repertoire," chuckled Hermione, glad that Harry was more relaxed, flying was still not her favorite form of travel and the last thing her nerves needed was a major argument during this trip, especially, at this height off the ground. 

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Hermione leaned forward and whisper into Thorne's ear, the skeletal horse whickered in response and began a steady decent to the neighborhood below.

Harry watched as they drew closer to the buildings and growled, "What are you playing at Hermione!? This isn't the Ministry."

"True, but it's important that we stop here, first," she said tersely, trying to keep her own temper under control. Moments later, they were safely back on Terra Firma, thank Merlin! She briefly thought of jumping from the back of the Thestral and kissing the dirt but, thought better of it after Thorne started relieving his bladder on the ground where he stood.

After transfiguring a blade of grass into a small trough and filling it with a tepid Aguamenti, Hermione then touched her head to the colt's chest and thanked him for coming to their aid. "When you're feeling rested, please return to your herd and when I get back to Hogwarts, I'll bring you some fresh cubes of steak from the kitchens." Thorne nuzzled her in response, accepting her promise of such a tasty gift.

Harry was still fuming that Hermione hadn't taken him to the Ministry but, didn't want to risk angering the Thestral, those hooves looked sharp and he didn't relish the idea of getting kicked by the beast and further delaying his plan of finding Sirius...providing they weren't already too late with this detour.

It wasn't until Hermione moved away from Thorne that Harry took in the surroundings where they landed, realizing that this small backyard garden meant that they were at 12 Grimmauld Place.

* * *

Harry roughly grabbed Hermione's arm and spun her around to face him, "Why are you wasting time coming to this place!? Kreacher already told us Sirius wasn't here."

"I know that Harry," she snarled in return, jerking her arm out of his grasp, "But, this place in under a Fidelius Charm which means we can Floo directly to and from the Ministry from here and not worry about being tracked once we rescue Sirius. Now, quit being such an arse and trust that I know what I'm doing."

He stared at his friend, his face now flushed from embarrassment instead of anger, "You're right, Hermione, I'm sorry...I hadn't even considered that possibility."

"It's alright, I know you're worried about your Godfather," she said, patting him on the arm in sympathy, "Now, let's get inside and check the Floo. Hopefully, the network is still open from when we placed that firecall earlier and I don't have to undo any wards."

* * *

When the two entered the hallway on the first floor heading towards the parlor and the hearth, the hairs on the back of Hermione's neck stood on end. "Someone's here," she hiss-whispered, pulling Harry into the shadows of the downstairs library, returning Harry's wand to him after she retrieved her own.

"Be quiet and stay here," she murmured before casting a Disallusionment Charm over herself, moving slowly through the house until she got to the basement kitchen, the direction where she'd heard heavy footsteps and voices. Stepping through the entryway, she clamped her hands over her mouth to keep from shrieking out in alarm. There at the end of the long table sat the very person they were trying to find!

"Sirius Black! What are you doing here?" Hermione exclaimed as she dropped her spell, startling the man with her unexpected appearance and harsh shouting.

"Merlins Balls, Hermione! What are you doing here, shouldn't you be at Hogwarts?" Sirius yelped as he hurriedly stood with wand drawn, hating the slight shrillness to his voice...he was loathe to admit it but, the girl had truly taken him off-guard.

A sudden movement behind the witch had her and the still rattled Lord of the house whirling about with wands ready to cast some nasty hexes. "Harry? First Hermione and now you? What's going on?" Sirius asked, lowering his arm as he walked over and gave his Godson a crushing hug.

Hermione wasn't as gentle in her response, marching over to her friend, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him away from his Godfather. "Now do you believe me about your dreams and Old Moldy-Vort?

Harry had the sense to look sheepish but, Sirius was just more confused, "I think it's time you two started explaining things," he growled, folding his arms tightly across his chest.

Hermione followed with a similar gesture but added a quirked eyebrow, making Harry wince. ('She's never going to let me live this down,' he thought with a mixture of relief and sourness.)

* * *

Shifting his feet and lowering his eyes to the floor, Harry let out an exasperated huff. "I've been having these recurring dreams, you see...nightmares, actually...that you'd been captured by Death Eaters, taken to the Ministry and was being tortured by Lord Snake-Face," he muttered, nervously shifting his feet, "I talked Hermione into helping me try to rescue you and...well...that's how we ended up at Grimmauld Place...we were going to use the Floo here to get to the Ministry."

"Why didn't you just firecall or have McGonagall get a message to me, Harry?" asked Sirius, worry for his Godson evident on his face.

"Professor McGonagall was busy dealing with some of the mess that horrid witch, Umbridge, created. And, for your information, we did call here less than and hour ago but, Kreacher told us you weren't here," said Hermione, irritated that Sirius would believe she hadn't thought to try contacting him beforehand.

"WHAT?! Kreacher! Get your worthless arse out here and explain yourself," bellowed Sirius, his eyes burning with rage.

As soon as the cantankerous old house-elf appeared, Sirius grabbed him by the back of the dingy black cloth he wore and shook him, "Why did you lie to my Godson and tell him that I wasn't here, you filthy, worthless shite. Because of you, he could've been killed!"

"Stop it!" yelled Hermione, hitting Sirius' arm and causing him to drop the little elf, placing herself between the two "This is exactly why he did it, you git! You're constantly abusing him and this was the best way he knew how to get back at you, by putting Harry in harm's way."

Kreacher was looking smugly at his hated Master until Hermione whirled about and began scolding him, too, "And, you! I've defended you to the likes of that wizard until I'm blue in the face and for what? So, that you could betray my brother in all but blood and send him into danger?"

Turning back to Sirius, she continued, "You can't allow Kreacher to stay here any longer, Sirius, you can't trust him."

Black protested, "Now wait a moment, Hermione. If I do that, who's going to help me take care of this place?"

Hermione glared at the man, "Are you a wizard or not, Sirius Black? Surely, you know any number of housekeeping spells," she chided, waving her wand about to emphasize her point, "Then, again, looking at the state of this house, neither you nor Kreacher have been doing a very good job of maintaining it."

She looked back at the elf who had started grumbling at the 'Upstart Mudblood who dared to try and make him leave his Mistresses' home', "Shut it, you!" she hissed, pointing her wand at the foul-mouthed being.

"Now, I have a proposition to make that should benefit you both, so listen carefully," Hermione snapped at the brooding Master and his equally surly elf, "Sirius, you give Kreacher fresh clothes to break the bond with your family, banishing him from all of your holdings," she held up her hand to stop Black from interrupting, "Then, Kreacher, you present yourself to Delia, she's the Matron of the Hogwarts House-Elves, and she will put you work at the school. Trust me, there's plenty to do and you'll never get bored. Plus, you can take Walburga Black's portrait with you so you won't be without your beloved Mistress in your new home."

Hermione paused a moment to let this idea sink in, "The sooner this happens, the better it will be for everyone concerned," she said, tapping her foot impatiently.

Wizard and house-elf glared at one another for another few seconds before silently nodding in agreement.

* * *

While Sirius and Kreacher were busy severing their Master-Servant connections, Hermione headed to the first floor library searching for books on household and gardening spells for the soon-to-be house-elf free Lord Black.

Unfortunately, this meant Harry was left to wander about Grimmauld Place on his own. And, even without Ron there to influence him, this typically led to trouble. Which happened about ten minutes later in the form of another head-splitting vision.

Due to their connection, Voldemort was fully aware that Harry wasn't going to be lured to the Ministry with the false images of Sirius Black. Instead, Riddle began feeding Potter a new temptation, The Department of Mysteries and the all important Prophecy, it was in danger of being stolen. Of course, Voldemort embellished the scenes a bit, taunting Harry with the notion that once the orb was in his pale hands, that he and his Death Eaters would be assured victory over the Order and the Light. And, once in control, Riddle would have Muggle-borns everywhere rounded up, enslaved or killed...with top priority being given to Potter's best friend, Granger.

Harry ignored the visions for the better part of thirty minutes before the last one of Hermione being taken and kept as a special 'pet' for Voldemort's personal amusements reeled him in. Seconds later, he was on his way to the Ministry on a borrowed broom. 

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione was sitting in the middle of the rug-covered floor in the Black Library with a handful of dust-covered books on Charms spread about her in a semi-circle. As she slowly flipped through the tomes, she periodically stopped to bookmark a page on housekeeping spells that she felt might be useful to Sirius. ('If nothing else, it should prove entertaining to watch him learn the wand movements,' she mused with a tiny smirk on her lips.)

The young Gryffindor had just picked up a third volume that contained gardening enchantments, for both magical and Muggle plant species, when the migraine started.

"No!" Hermione groaned in pain to the empty room "I don't have time for this."

She had never experienced the eye-watering, stomach-churning headaches until a few months ago and they were becoming more intense with each episode. Thank the stars they only occurred for a day, at most, once every four weeks...any more frequent, and she might wind up hexing anyone who dared breathe too loud in her presence. But, this time, something new was added to the mix. Along with the usual agonizing, stabbing sensation behind her right eye, Hermione was also spiking a fever, and, on the inside of her left wrist and on the right side of her neck near her shoulder, a walnut-sized lump had developed beneath the skin.

"Oh, what fresh Hell is this?" whimpered Hermione as she held a hand over her face to block out the uncomfortable brightness from the aura-ringed wall sconces. Gingerly, she rummaged through her jeans back pocket with her free hand for the shrunken box of extra-strength Pain Remedy that the school matron, Madame Pomfrey, had given her to take for these flair-ups. To her dismay and frustration, Hermione discovered the remaining vials were broken, her throbbing mind somehow managing to recall stumbling and falling over a large tree root while leading that wretched Umbitch through the Forbidden Forest earlier that evening.

"Shit!Shite!Shite!!" she cursed under her breath, "I hope Sirius has some potions on hand or I'm royally screwed."

* * *

Black had just sent Kreacher on his way to Hogwarts, along with the, oddly quiet, portrait of his despised mother, and was about to break out a bottle of his Ogden's Finest Firewhiskey to celebrate when Hermione stumbled into the kitchen looking like death-warmed-over.

"Merlin! Hermione. What happened?" he asked, taking mental note of the flinch she made at the sound of his voice and her paler-than-normal complexion, "You look like you were on an all-night bender."

"Migraine," was all she managed to say before she dashed over to the sink and emptied her stomach of the meager dinner she'd had that day.

Sirius wrinkled his nose, vanished the sick and gently maneuvered the ill witch over to a chair. "Stay there, I'll be right back," he said, disappearing out the kitchen door and returning a few minutes later with two small vials and handing them to Hermione along with a glass of cool water. "Take the pain-relief before the Pepper-Up," Sirius instructed, worried that she was coming down with something contagious considering that she now appeared to be suffering from chills, too.

After quickly downing the concoctions, and taking a large gulp of water afterwards, Hermione let out a sigh as her discomfort slightly eased, the pain potion was a general, all-purpose mixture and only partially took the edge off the headache but, it was appreciated just the same. "Thank you," she finally managed to rasp out, her throat still sore from vomiting.

Rather than get any closer to offer Hermione a comforting hand on her shoulder, Sirius said, "Just stay seated and rest, Hermione, I'm going to grab a couple more vials and check on Harry. If you're having these symptoms, then it's likely he is, too," he stated, hurrying out of the room as she protested, "It's a migraine, you twit, not the bloody plague!"

* * *

In actuality, Hermione was glad that Sirius was concerned about Harry's health, someone else besides her needed to be after the hellish year he'd been put through by the pink nightmare. She growled at the memory of those torturous detentions with Umbitch but, smirked seconds later, knowing the detestable witch was finally getting her comeuppance at the hands of the centaurs. Hermione didn't show any sign of remorse either when she hoped that Magorian's herd would make it a permanent solution. 

Neither did she have any misgivings when she believed that Dumbledore should suffer to some extent, too. After all, he did nothing to stop the High Inquisitor when he was shown undeniable proof the odious woman was using illegal Blood Quills to punish students.

She was working herself into a right strop as she recalled the Headmaster's patronizing dismissal of her Auror-worthy gathered evidence but, was rapidly brought out of her frustrated ruminations when a distraught Sirius rushed back into the kitchen.

"Harry's missing and one of my racing brooms is gone," he blurted out, his hair and clothes in disarray after his frantic search of the house for any sign of his Godson.

Black at least had the sense to back up from Harry's best friend and put up a Protego when she snarled, "I can't believe that asinine twit!" she said, slapping the surface of the dining table as she stood up, "He's going to wish he was back in Umbridge's tender care when I get my hands on him."

* * *

Grabbing the medicinal potions vials that Sirius still had in one of his hands, Hermione stuffed them into her pockets and left the room before he could comment about her rudeness. Without a backwards glance, she headed towards the parlor fireplace with Black close on her heels.

"Where do you think you're going, Hermione?" he demanded, trying to keep up with the tiny witch on a mission, "You're obviously too sick to travel."

"I'm fairly certain I know where Harry's going," she replied, wincing as she bumped her swollen wrist reaching for the container of Floo powder on the mantle, the added pain causing her stomach to flip-flop in protest.

"Then, I'm coming with you," Sirius proclaimed stubbornly, attempting to take the metal box from Hermione's hands.

Before Sirius could blink twice, she'd sent a wandless, wordless Incarcerous in his direction and glared at the wizard, "No, you're not," she snapped, a fiery defiance flashing across her face, "In case you've forgotten, Sirius Black, you are still a wanted escapee from Azkaban. I can't be worried about keeping you from getting caught and thrown back in prison while I'm looking for Harry. And, you know he would blame himself for it, knowing that you came out of hiding to search for him."

Hermione didn't wait around to listen to Sirius' objections. Quickly throwing down a handful of Floo powder and calling out "Ministry of Magic, London" she stepped into the green flames and swirled away from the loudly fussing Lord Black.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy was having a wretched evening, The Dark Lord had tasked him with retrieving The Prophecy and here he was standing in The Department of Mysteries staring at a veritable endless array of the mist-filled orbs. How in Merlin's twisted beard was he supposed to find the right one amongst this sea of glass containers, it seemed a Herculean undertaking. And, more than once, it crossed his mind that Voldemort had intentionally set him up for failure so that he had an excuse to punish him and his son...not that The Dark Lord ever truly needed a reason to curse his followers, especially, during the past year.

Malfoy closed his eyes, trying to shut out the memory of his last major blunder, the loss of Tom Riddle's diary three years ago. That grievous mistake had cost his wife, Narcissa, her life (her sister, Bellatrix, always was a bit too enthusiastic with her cursed blades). Now, he was more determined than ever to do whatever was needed to protect his only child, even this proverbial needle-in-the-haystack hunt for a prophecy.

So, imagine Lucius' surprise when the Boy-Who-Lived rushed into the large gallery as bold-as-brass and began searching the extensive rows of shelves, obviously, with a similar goal in mind. Malfoy couldn't help the devious smirk that turned up the corners of his mouth. If he was patient, Potter would do the tedious work for him, then, all he need do was capture the oblivious teen and relieve the boy of his prized possession. Presenting The Dark Lord with the young wizard would be an unexpected bonus, one that he could use to negotiate for a boon for Draco.

It was a simple enough scheme, until a certain bushy-haired witch showed up and threw a major spanner into the works.

* * *

Hermione arrived at the Ministry, Disallusioned herself and made her way to the bank of lifts in the Atrium. Pressing the button for the ninth level and the Hall of Prophecy, she began muttering to herself all the things she'd do to her brother in all but blood when she found him...none of it pleasant.

When the doors to the car opened, Hermione carefully made her way along the corridors, having spotted Order members and Death Eaters roaming about the halls, some engaged in frenzied duels. Casting a Protego Maxima over herself, and keeping pressed close to the walls and shadows, Hermione managed to avoid getting hit by several stray spells, all except the last one.

The slicing hex grazed her left wrist, opening up the swollen knot which released a strange, musky citrus fragrance into the air. "What the actual fuck!?" exclaimed Hermione, cleaning up the minor wound with a Tergeo and covering the slightly oozing laceration with a transfigured bandage made from a loose thread on her jeans.

Sighing loudly, Hermione continued on towards the Hall of Prophecy, she'd have to investigate this new phenomenon after she retrieved Harry and got them back to Grimmauld Place.

* * *

Harry had finally managed to locate and retrieve The Prophecy from a high shelf and was turning to exit the cavernous space when he felt the press of an unseen hand and wand to his chest, nearly causing him to drop the orb. He almost wished it was Voldemort when he recognized the owner of the agitated growl.

"Harry James Potter," she hiss-whispered at her startled friend, "Just what the Bloody Hell did you think you were doing sneaking away from Grimmauld Place and coming here," Hermione stated more than asked, "I told you the Order would take care of things and they are...in fact, they are on several floors above us fighting a crew of Death Eaters as we speak."

"But, Hermione, Voldy..." Harry started to explain but, Hermione cut him off by pushing the tip of her wand even deeper into his skin.

"I don't give a flying fart in space what that snake-faced lunatic showed you through shared visions, you can't trust anything he revealed to you," she snarled, her Disallusionment falling away so he could see the disappointed anger on her face, "His sole purpose was to lure you out into the open, away from the safety of Hogwarts, and he's succeeded...you're right where he intended you to be."

Tugging on his shirt, the little witch began dragging the flustered boy towards the exit, still fuming as they went, "If we're lucky, the Order will have chased off or captured most of Moldy-Shorts' followers and we can get back to Grimmauld Place without anyone noticing us."

Of course, they weren't to be so lucky as they heard the arrogant, drawling voice from somewhere behind them. "Well, look what we have here...a pair of lost Gryffindor cubs. And, not just any two, either, but, two-thirds of the famous Golden Trio," the blonde aristocrat purred, "Whatever shall I do with the pair of you?"

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

Lucius found himself positively captivated as he listened to the fired up little witch berating Potter for his impulsiveness. Although, at one point, he thought he'd given his presence away when he stumbled against one of the prophecy shelves, rattling some of the glass orbs in the process, as he struggled to himself to keep from laughing out loud at the younger wizard's flustered attempts to justify his actions.

('The boy doesn't stand a chance against her.')

As the Malfoy patriarch continued watching the pair from his place in the shadows, his mouth nearly dropped open in shock, the girl's hair was undeniably alive with her magic, becoming increasingly animated the more irritated she became with her single-minded friend. Currently, her golden-chestnut curls were writhing about her head like a nest of pet vipers waiting for the command to strike. One thing was for certain, it put Miss Granger's physical altercation with his son during their third year into an entirely new perspective.

It was no wonder that Draco failed to mention this intriguing detail, manifestation of power like this in a person this young was either breathtaking to behold or terrifying to watch...depending on where you stood.

Naturally, this sent a flurry of new questions racing about through Lucius' mind. Did either The Dark Lord or Headmaster Dumbledore know about Miss Granger's increased magical talents? Was this Gryffindor and her unique presentation of magic in some way connected to The Prophecy? More importantly, Malfoy wondered, how could he capitalize on this information to his and Draco's benefit?

But, as intriguing as these thoughts were, it was vital that he retrieved The Prophecy. Stepping out from behind the stacks, Lucius shook his head at the younger witch and wizard, they were so caught up in their argument that they hadn't noticed his sudden appearance.

"Well, look what we have here...a pair of lost Gryffindor cubs," purred the blonde aristocrat, "And, not just any two, either, but, two-thirds of the famous Golden Trio. Whatever shall I do with the pair of you?" 

* * *

Harry and Hermione shivered with dread when they heard the arrogant drawl of the Malfoy patriarch. "Take The Prophecy and run, Hermione, I'll hold him off," hiss-whispered Harry, shakily pushing the orb into his friend's hand. But, Hermione was having none of Harry's brash heroics. She needed to come up with a plan to save them both from this known Death Eater and she had to do something fast before Harry rushed headlong into danger once more.

With an abrupt snap of her fingers (a trick she learned from the house-elves), Hermione disarmed Harry and shoved his wand into her back pocket while casting a Locomotor Mortis curse, adding an Incarcerous with a Sticking Charm in for good measure, to keep her wayward friend firmly rooted to his current spot. Was it a bit excessive? Well, yes...but, she was seriously pissed off at him for brushing off her warnings, again, and running off without backup.

Ignoring Harry's spluttered 'What the Hell are you doing?', Hermione conjured up a leather pouch from a loose button she plucked off the front of his shirt, placed the orb inside for safekeeping and whispered so only he could hear, "Did you listen to The Prophecy...all of it?"

"Well, yes, but..." Harry started to reply.

"Good. Now, shut it and really listen to me for a change," she muttered through clenched teeth, "If you know what The Prophecy says, it won't be long before Lord Snake-Face 'hears' it through your link."

"But, what has that...?" he tried to ask before Hermione cut him off once more. 

"It makes this prophecy orb irrelevant but, Mr. Malfoy doesn't know that," Hermione murmured as she moved around her best friend, placing herself between him and the older wizard. 

Locking her fiery whiskey-brown eyes onto Malfoy's cool silver-grey ones, Hermione squared her shoulders and said in a steady voice, "If you help us get out of here, free and unharmed, Mr. Malfoy, I promise to give you this special artefact," pulling one side of the leather bag down to reveal the mist-filled glass sphere.

"And, why should I consider such a thing, Miss Granger," asked the blonde aristocrat, trying to keep his breathing under control.

"No, Hermione! You can't, HE's shown..." Harry started to protest but, Hermione cut him off with a Silencio without taking her gaze off Malfoy Sr.

"Quiet, Harry! I can and I will do this," she snapped, holding the shimmering orb up for Lucius to get a better look at it, taking note of the eager gleam she saw in the man's eyes, "Well, you see, Mr. Malfoy," she replied coolly, "This particular item contains a rather unique prophecy. One, I'm sure, your Master has expressed an interest in obtaining. So, do we have a deal?"

Ever the Slytherin, Lucius countered with, "I will give your proposal the consideration it deserves, Miss Granger, once you hand over that orb intact."

Hermione rolled her eyes at the smug-looking blonde, did he honestly believe she'd just turn over their only bargaining chip so easily? "Do I look like an awe-struck first year who just stepped off the Hogwarts Express to you?" she growled, pointing her wand at the irritating wizard. But, regardless of the audacity of Lucius' reply, Hermione knew the best hope of getting Harry back to Grimmauld Place in one piece was in taking the chance that the Malfoy patriarch would accept and honor their trade, it was far better odds than trying to out duel the more experienced Dark wizard.

* * *

"Well, what's it to be, Mr. Malfoy?" Hermione asked, dangling the orb in her outstretched left hand over the stone floor, "Are you going to safely escort Harry and I back to the Atrium or do I shatter this Prophecy that you so obviously want for your Master?"

Lucius couldn't hide the flash of panic from his eyes, "Fine!" he hissed, his back and shoulders rigid with tension, "I agree to aid you and Mr. Potter in your escape, Miss Granger." ('Merlin! How was this witch not sorted into Ravenclaw...or Slytherin for that matter? She's far too calculating for a typical Gryffindor.') "Just secure that sphere before anything happens to it...please."

"Now, was that so difficult?" smirked Hermione, returning the globe to the pouch and tightly tying the leather drawstring around the belt on her jeans, "Well, come along, Mr. Malfoy, we don't have all day."

('Bossy witch.')

* * *

As the blonde wizard slowly moved towards them, Hermione finished readying Harry for their journey back through the Ministry. First, she removed the Sticking Charm and the leg-locker curse but, kept the Silencio and Incarcerous in place, for the moment.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she apologized as she set about casting a few select glamours over her silently grumbling friend, "But, I can't risk you doing or saying anything to jeopardize our chances to get out of here, hopefully, unharmed." By the time she was finished, Harry no longer resembled The-Boy-Who-Lived, instead, he was a dead-ringer for another blonde wizard...his long-standing obsession, Draco Malfoy. Conjuring a mirror and holding it so that Harry could see the results of his make-over, Hermione rolled her eyes and let out a heavy sigh when he silently mouthed 'What the Bloody Hell, Hermione!'. 

"Think about it, Harry, it's the most logical choice for a disguise," she explained, vanishing the mirror, "Few people, if any, would detain Mr. Malfoy and question him if he's seen caring for his incapacitated son. Well, any Death Eaters, that is." After pausing a moment, Hermione added, "I could've simply Disallusioned you, of course, but, given your...ill-advised actions this evening, I feel it best to keep you where I can see you." Needless to say, this earned her a mutinous glare from Harry and an inaudible 'You don't know what you've done' as he struggled against his magical bindings.

Shaking her head sadly, Hermione added a Petrificas Totalus and Mobilicorpus to the mix of spells already placed on Harry as she waited for Mr. Malfoy to join them by the exit.

* * *

Malfoy Sr. stood by the prophecy shelves until Granger was nearly finished tending to Potter before attempting to approach the two Gryffindors, fully aware that the girl's eyes were tracking his every move. He was also mindful of the wand that was clutched in her right hand and that the all important, and easily breakable, Prophecy was guarded by her left arm as it lay cradled in the leather pouch at her waist. ('Patience. Your prize is almost within your grasp.') 

But, it wasn't until he was about fifteen paces away from the pair that Lucius realized that something was wrong with the young witch. How had he not noticed the seeping bandage on her left wrist, the slight tremor in her limbs or the the bright red fever flush covering her cheeks? ('Clever girl, using that Gryffindor bravado to direct my attentions away from the fact that she's injured. No wonder she was so willing to bargain away The Prophecy to ensure their safety, she knew she'd be at a physical disadvantage, unable to protect herself and Potter on her own.') 

Unaware of Lucius' internal dialogue concerning her health and motivations to negotiate, Hermione reached into her jeans pocket and pulled out one of the hastily stashed potions vials, popped the cork and quickly downed the contents, returning the empty bottle to her pocket.

* * *

Temporarily closing her eyes as she breathed a sigh of relief, Hermione missed Lucius' raised eyebrow. Of course, Malfoy immediately recognized what she'd taken, having had the need to imbibe that particular concoction far too many times himself in recent months.

With this new bit of information in mind, Malfoy contemplated pressing his luck to gain the upper hand against the weakened girl but, was stopped short when a faint, but enticing, musky citrus fragrance drifted across the short distance between them and hit him squarely in the nose like a stray bludger.

Lucius' physical reaction to the unexpected aroma was near instant...both his pupils blowing wide, nostrils flaring to capture more of the scent, a low protective growl rumbling deep within his chest, canines sharpening and a feral grin blooming across his, normally, emotionally reserved face. ('Well, now. I certainly hadn't considered that possibility.') Shaking his head to regain his composure, Malfoy Sr. found himself chuckling at Granger's confusion at his altered demeanor. ('Is it possible she has no idea what's happening?')

"Oh, my. Aren't you full of surprises today, Miss Granger," Lucius purred, delighted at her noticeable shiver in response to the tone in his voice, "Or should I say, Omega."

Hermione drew back as if slapped, "What...what did you call me?" she stuttered, her head now pounding in time with her racing heart despite the pain potion she had just taken.

"Never mind, it's unimportant at the moment," he continued, the smirk evident on his face, "Tell me, my dear, are you willing to do anything to protect your friend?" 

"That depends on how you define 'anything', Mr. Malfoy," Hermione countered, cringing at how vulnerable she sounded. ('What is wrong with me?')

"Spoken like a true Slytherin," he drawled, his wand arm dropping to his side to show her he was no threat, "I have a new counter proposal, Miss Granger. I will guarantee Potter's freedom if you turn yourself over to me, willingly, along with the undamaged Prophecy, when we reach the Atrium."

"What about Harry's life, will he be unharmed?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at the older wizard, "And, how do I know you will keep your promise?" ('What's he playing at? Surely old Moldy-Shorts would value Harry's capture more than mine?')

"I give you my oath on my magic," Lucius replied without hesitation, "I will do everything I can to ensure Mr. Potter's escape with his life."

Hermione's eyebrows arched towards her hairline in astonishment as the magic of the oath settled over the blonde aristocrat. Lucius Malfoy just gave her a Wizarding Vow to protect Harry. How had that happened and why?

But, before she could question his motives further, or talk herself out of it, Hermione blurted out, "I accept."

* * *

Harry was having a silent meltdown as he helplessly watched his best friend agree to Lucius Malfoy's terms. ('No!No!No!, Hermione can't seriously be doing this! I need...we need that Prophecy orb to win this War!') But, no matter how hard he tried to struggle, the spells that Hermione had placed on him didn't budge. ('I knew I should have paid closer attention when she tried to teach me and Ron wandless and wordless magic,' he groaned.)

* * *

Thirty minutes later, and true to his word, the Malfoy patriarch delivered them safely to the Ministry Atrium, having only needed to stun one Order member and two masked Death Eaters, who he swiftly Obliviated, that blocked their path near the lifts in The Department of Mysteries.

Turing to the young witch and holding out his hand, Lucius flashed her that predatory smile once again, "Now, my dear, it's time to keep your part of the bargain."

"Before I do," Hermione said, removing the glamours and Mobilicorpus from Harry and returning his wand to his trousers pocket, "I need to release Har..."

"Stop!" "Get away from them!" interrupted two familiar voices, followed by the flash of red light from stunning spells and the sound of them being deflected off rapidly thrown Protego's. 

Hermione barely had time to recognize the faces of Kingsley Shacklebolt and Arthur Weasley before Lucius Malfoy grabbed her around the waist and pulled the two of them into the unsettling, twisting motion of Side-Along Apparation.

* * *

Two hours after Potter had given Snape that cryptic message about 'Padfoot' in Umbridge's office, and he had warned the Order to send a rescue team to the Ministry, Severus received another puzzling missive, this time from his old friend Lucius.

The unembellished note, delivered by one of the Malfoy house-elves, stated, "I found her. Bring medical potions kit. Suspect long term suppressants. Burgundy safehouse ~ LM."

Ten minutes later, the parchment was a pile of ash in the Potions Master's fireplace as he disappeared from his personal quarters at Hogwarts with the help of an emergency Portkey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> harrypotterfandom.com
> 
> locomotor mortis - Leg-Locker curse - sticks a persons legs together
> 
> flipendo - knockback jinx - knocks the target backwards, useful in duels or for pushing heavy objects
> 
> mobilicorpus - levitation spell


	4. Chapter 4

Dumbledore was in a right state...somewhere between incandescent with rage and a massive panic attack as he paced about the sitting room at Grimmauld Place, ignoring the worried conversations going on around him.

How could things have gone so horribly wrong in the last two hours? Naturally, he had delayed contacting the Order when he received Snape's warning. But, that had been all part of his scheme...to test Harry's leadership skills by allowing The Chosen one and his little band of friends time to reach the Ministry on their fool's errand. Of course, Albus had known all along that Sirius hadn't been taken captive, his hidden tracker on Black had told him as much. But, Harry didn't need to know that, Potter simply needed a cause to fight for in order to become the figurehead Dumbledore needed him to be for the upcoming war.

But, this...this he hadn't anticipated. How had that demure little bookworm, Miss Granger, managed to convince her fellow Gryffindor from involving more than just the two of them on their mission to The Department of Mysteries? Albus also hadn't envisioned her being strong enough to prevent the impetuous Sirius Black from following his Godson to the Ministry. Only, there he had been, trapped and trussed up like a Christmas goose at Order Headquarters looking more like a sheep than a lion as Lupin had vanished the magical bindings. Pathetic.

He had counted on the headstrong man acting like he so often did at school, charging in without thinking, and risking his own life to get to the boy at the Ministry. And, if Black had happened to succumb during the rescue attempt?...well, Albus had planned to use that predictable event to his advantage to gain further control, making the Golden Trio even more dependent on him and his counsel.

Only, then, the bushy-haired chit had to go and let herself get abducted by a Death Eater...and, Lord Malfoy at that! Who could he possibly enlist now at this late stage in the game to motivate Potter and Weasley, keeping them on task for recruiting and training the members of the D.A.? That Patil twin, perhaps? Thank Merlin Granger had at least gotten those two through their O.W.L.'s before she'd been taken.

Insufferable witch, mucking up his schemes like this...absolutely no consideration for his Greater Good.

* * *

Lucius had mere moments to cast a series of Protego's to prevent being struck by Shacklebolt's and Weasley's stunners. And, for one heart-stopping beat, he thought he'd deflected one of the spells straight into Miss Granger and The Prophecy. But, despite the little witch's weakened state, she'd managed to dodge the bright red light and, in doing so, moved herself closer towards him.

In the blink of an eye, Malfoy wrapped his arm around Granger's waist and Disapparated from the Atrium, landing them in a safehouse he maintained for emergencies...and this definitely qualified as such. He certainly couldn't return to Malfoy Manor for the time being, that's the first place Weasley, Shacklebolt and others from the Order or the Aurory would go to search for him and the missing Gryffindor.

For now, Lucius thought it best to just secure the orb and wait to be summoned by the Dark Lord...and, of course, decide what he was going to do with Miss Granger. The fact that she was an emerging Omega certainly would make that process...interesting...his Alpha nature shivered happily in anticipation.

* * *

Unfortunately, in his haste to escape the Ministry, Malfoy hadn't taken into consideration the effects of Side-Along travel on Miss Granger's fevered condition and wound up with her vomiting all over his expensive dragon-hide boots.

Sighing heavily as he vanished the mess from the both of them, Lucius led Granger over to a nearby dark blue leather settee while plucking the leather pouch containing the, miraculously, intact Prophecy orb from the girl's belt.

"I would have handed that over to you if you'd simply asked, Mr. Malfoy," Hermione tersely rasped, her throat slightly raw from being sick, "We did have a deal, after all, and you fulfilled your end of the bargain."

One of Lucius' blonde eyebrows arched up in surprise, even with his limited Legilimacy skills he could tell that what she said was heartfelt, not even the slightest hint of deception. Looking down at the witch's alarmingly pale face, he replied, "Forgive me, Miss Granger," he drawled, "I'm not used to dealing with honorable Gryffindors."

That earned him an unladylike snort from the girl, "I presume your referring to Headmaster Dumbledore or Minister Fudge with that sentiment?"

"Indeed," he replied with a smirk as he carefully placed The Prophecy orb into a runed box he'd pulled from a robe pocket, heavily warding it and returning it to his robes, ready at a moments notice to be presented to The Dark Lord. 

* * *

Hermione sat on the leather settee with her head cradled in her hands. She'd accomplished her task and her conscience was clear, haven gotten Harry to, relative, safety by keeping her word to the Malfoy patriarch, freely giving up The Prophecy and herself for her friend's sake. However, she never promised to remain with Mr. Malfoy once they left the Atrium and arrived...wherever it was he'd taken her.

She needed to come up with an escape plan but, the migraine was making it difficult to think straight. Sliding her fingers into her pocket, Hermione snagged the last vial of pain-relief and had it half way to her lips when her hand shook violently, causing the contents to spill everywhere. ('Circe's Saggy Tits!') Granger felt like throwing the bottle and smashing it against the grey stone wall but knew that wouldn't help matters.

Knowing that this would likely lead to another negotiation, Hermione let out a put upon sigh and gingerly turned to face her, hopefully, temporary host, "Do you have any headache potions in this place?" (Merlin! Kill me now...did I just whimper?)

* * *

When Lucius had walked Miss Granger over to the sofa, another faint wave of her musk wafted up his nose, only this time there was a sour undertone to the sweet citrusy fragrance. After retrieving the asked for potion and handing it over to the grateful little witch, Lucius watched with satisfaction as the concoction took effect and relief spread across Granger's face. It nearly made his male pride visibly preen, knowing that he eased her pain in some small way.

* * *

After a few moments, it was obvious to Malfoy that something else was still causing Miss Granger to be unwell and in distress, making his protective instincts roar to the surface. Not wanting to add to Granger's discomfort by sweeping her up into his arms to soothe her as his Alpha nature dictated, Lucius, instead, tamped down those reactions behind an Occlumency shield, settled down on the far end of the settee and began assessing her symptoms.

Although not currently in pain, she was still running a fever but, there were also chills and muscle tremors and he'd noticed the scent gland on her neck had not fully emerged like the one she had covered on her wrist. That was another cause for concern. Was Granger deliberately trying to hide that aspect of herself? Why would she do such a thing when it was a normal part of a person's second gender? But, then, he recalled her confused, almost frightened, response at the Ministry when he called her 'Omega'.

Suddenly, all the color drained from Lucius' face as more pieces of the puzzle clicked into place. Miss Granger was the same year in school as Draco which would make her fifteen...sixteen at most. Ordinarily, secondary gender presentations didn't occur until a person's seventeenth birthday, when they attained their magical majority, in either sixth or seventh year. Even taking into account Granger's rare power manifestation, her appearance as an Omega was happening far too soon.

Which meant someone was deliberately hastening this little witch's natural development, most likely with a combination of an aging-potion and Praecoquis spell. It would certainly account for the majority of her symptoms. And, based on her earlier reaction to the mere mention of the word Omega, these changes weren't self-inflicted nor done with her knowledge and consent.

Did someone suspect that this particular Gryffindor would present as an Omega? True, her petite stature was an indicator but, not a guarantee. He'd known a few Beta's that weren't much taller than Miss Granger, Bellatrix LeStrange, being one of them. And, tampering with a person's secondary gender, but especially an Omega's, was an automatic sentence to Azkaban for ten years. Who would risk such a thing?

A final realization almost had Malfoy hexxing the low coffee table setting in front of the settee in frustration and rage. The reason he could detect Granger's faint original scent at all meant that he was her intended Alpha...only a true mate or mates would be able to smell their Omega's musk. 

Whoever this person or persons were, they were trying to alter her natural fragrance, to claim Miss Granger for themselves...or for someone else in particular.

* * *

Malfoy hurriedly Accio'd a piece of parchment and a self-inking quill, wrote a quick note to the one other person that was keyed to this specific safehouse, and sent the missive on it's way with his most trusted house-elf, Trinket.

As soon as the little elf disappeared, Hermione raised a questioning eyebrow at Malfoy. "What's going on?" she asked with as steady a voice as she could manage, the chills and muscle tremors causing her to nearly fall off the settee.

"I've just sent for an old friend who has the knowledge and skills to better treat your malady, you'll probably recognize him when he arrives," soothed Lucius as he levitated a warm blanket over to the young witch.

"You know what's wrong with me?" Hermione nearly squeaked, "I'm not contagious, am I?...Never mind, don't answer that last bit...of course, I'm not. Otherwise, you wouldn't be sitting in the same room with me. Why are you still here, Mr. Malfoy? Don't you have an orb to deliver? Who..."

A loud, exasperated noise coming from someone standing in the shadows behind Hermione stopped her from rattling on with more questions. "Merlin's Saggy Balls! Of all the witches on the planet, why did it have to be you?"

"Now, Severus, is that any way to greet our future Omega?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> praecoquis - early, premature, ripe untimely, ripe beforehand


	5. Chapter 5

"Nimue's Frilly Knickers! Lucius. Did you find your son's hidden stash of Professor Sprout's magically enhanced Special Herb and smoke the entire bag?" scowled Snape, crossing his arms tightly over his chest, "Because there's no way on this gods-be-damned Earth that we would ever..."

Whatever derisive comment the dour man in black was going to say to his blonde friend about this Know-It-All of a witch was quickly forgotten as Hermione's face contorted into a mute rictus of agony before their startled eyes. Seconds later, her entire body began violently thrashing about like a person being tortured with a Cruciatus.

Both wizards were at her side in an instant, their conversation set aside for the moment to tend to the witch in trouble from an unknown cause. Severus quickly drew his wand from his arm holster and began snapping out a series of diagnostic scans. While he was doing that, Lucius wandlessly directed the warm blanket, which had fallen from Hermione's lap onto the floor, to gently entwine itself around Granger's upper body and added a sticking charm to the knotted back to secure her to the settee, preventing her from accidently pitching herself onto the low coffee table or the ground. 

A low hiss of displeasure escaped from Severus' mouth as the results from his tests began displaying themselves in angry red and sickly green lights hovering about the insensate Gryffindor. Accio'ing a pale purple vial from the bottom of the emergency potions kit he'd brought, Professor Snape hurriedly spelled the sweet smelling liquid directly into Granger's stomach and anxiously watched for signs of it taking effect.

"Sweet Mother of Merlin! What's happening to our little Omega, Severus?" demanded Lucius, as he moved closer to read one of the assessments, not liking the feeling of being next to useless in this situation.

"Stop calling Miss Granger that," growled Snape, taking a small bezoar from his medical bag and vanishing it to a safe position in the girl's throat past her vocal chords, "But, as loathe as I am to admit it, Lucius, you were correct about one thing concerning my student's health," rolling his eyes at Malfoy, knowing the blonde wizard would probably gloat about being right later on, once this crisis had passed, "Someone had been regularly dosing her since the beginning of term last year with some Dark Magic concoctions but, for whatever reason, this regimen was disrupted at least eight weeks ago," pointing to one of the sickly green readouts. 

* * *

The tension in Snape's shoulders finally began relaxing when he saw the witch's tremors lessening and a healthier pallor returning to her skin. Turning to Malfoy, he further explained Granger's condition, "Her seizure was the result of a combination of factors...remnants of those Dark potions in her system, withdrawal symptoms from said concoctions, the multiple doses of pain-relievers she'd ingested during the last four hours and the physical stress from her emerging secondary gender," he murmured, casting another round of diagnostics, "And, if you hadn't sent for me when you did, she may not have survived the night," he added, studying one of the more prominent lighter green displays, "Miss Granger's condition is stable, for the moment, but she's going to need a cleansing procedure to rid herself of the residual potions. I'd advise taking her to Gringott's when she awakens and have the Goblins see to her needs, they're far more knowledgeable concerning this process than any healer at St. Mungo's."

Lucius gave a slight nod to Severus, acknowledging his appreciation to other man for his efforts to save the little witch. "Will the purging of those elixirs reverse her forced Omega presentation or is it too late to stop the progression?"

"What are you on about, Lucius?" asked Snape, quirking a single eyebrow at Malfoy, "Miss Granger's secondary gender wasn't induced, it was being suppressed."

"Then how do you explain her Omega emergence as a fifteen or sixteen year old fifth year?" growled Lucius, gesturing to the sleeping witch, "That shouldn't happen until her magical majority at age seventeen."

"Funny you should mention that, Lucius. Based on these diagnostics, Miss Granger's biological age is seventeen but, according to her Hogwarts' records, she's sixteen," replied Snape, pointing at a specific display, "And, before you ask, I've already ruled out aging potions or any kind of Vetero spell." 

Further discussions between the two wizards were brought to a grinding halt when Malfoy let out a snarling hiss, the Dark Mark on his left arm had begun to burn. Snape's Mark remained undisturbed. "It seems I'm being summoned, my old friend," he said as he stood and prepared to leave, "Please remain here with Miss Granger until I return but, should you also be called by The Dark Lord, send for Trinket to attend to her."

After taking a moment to ensure he had the runed box with The Prophecy firmly secured, Lucius touched his wand to the writhing Mark on his arm and disappeared.

* * *

Hermione shuddered as another chill raced through her body, only this time it wasn't caused by her unknown illness. It was the second time Mr. Malfoy had referred to her as 'Omega'. ('What the Bloody Hell does that even mean? And, why do I feel like I should know the answer?') But, she didn't have time to mull over these questions as the blonde aristocrat perturbed her even further by claiming that she was somehow his AND the Professor's Omega...person?...whatever that word implied. Well, Hermione was certainly going to enjoy nipping that notion in the bud. She didn't belong to either of these two wizards, nor anyone else for that matter, she was an independent witch, thank you very much! 

At least, the Professor seemed to be in agreement with her about this shared Omega nonsense...and, wasn't that a shocker! Squaring her shoulders, Hermione opened her mouth to object to the two men's spiraling 'is she or isn't she' conversation and steer the discussion back to whole reason why Professor Snape had been invited here by Mr. Malfoy in the first place...finding out the cause of her mystery ailment.

Only, Hermione never got the chance to utter a single word of protest as all the nerves in her body chose that moment to ignite in searing pain. Fortunately, her awareness of the tortuous sensations lasted mere seconds before she succumbed to darkness.

* * *

Harry was hiding in the Black library at Grimmauld Place, sitting in Hermione's favorite reading nook and staring out the window at the night sky when a shadow loomed over him. He didn't even flinch when a large, warm hand settled on his shoulder in a comforting gesture. "Don't you worry Harry, Remus and Mad-Eye are two of the best trackers in the Order, they'll find Hermione in no time and bring her safely back here or to Hogwarts," reassured Sirius, silently hoping in earnest, for Harry's sake, this sentiment was true.

"If I'd just listened to Hermione, none of this would have happened," groaned Harry, trying desperately to hold back his guilt-ridden tears, "She was right about Lord Snake-Face using my dreams to taunt me but, I just HAD to try and retrieve my Prophecy orb so the Order could use it to win this war. I needed to do this to...to protect her and the other Muggle-borns. But, I screwed things up so badly, Sirius," he sighed, squeezing his eyes tightly shut to block out the last image he had of his friend, "I didn't just manage to lose the Bloody sphere, I got Hermione captured by a Death Eater, too," one tear finally broke free and trailed down his cheek, "I...I don't want to think about what Malfoy's going to do to her before he turns her and The Prophecy over to that red-eyed bastard."

Sirius hadn't wanted to dwell on those thoughts either, having heard some of the rumors about Lucius Malfoy and his use of 'creative' torture on abducted Muggle-borns. As he shifted into his Animagus form and placed his dark shaggy head on Harry's lap to better console his Godson, Black silently pleaded with all the deities he could name to help Remus and Moody find the little witch in time.

* * *

Dumbledore had returned to his office at Hogwarts in a right foul mood. Against his advice, the werewolf and that nut-case ex-Auror went off searching for that exasperating Granger witch. He hadn't said it aloud as Potter was in the room but, Albus felt it was a monumental waste of time and resources as the girl was most likely dead by now. And, even if they did manage to find the silly chit alive, he couldn't risk her continued association with Harry and the youngest Weasley boy. In her, sure to be damaged state, Granger would be too much of an inconvenience, Dumbledore simply couldn't have her become the center of the two Gryffindor boys' attentions as they helped her recover...he needed them focused on recruiting and training other DA members.

One way or another, he had to make sure Granger was no longer their concern.

* * *

Lucius returned to the safehouse barely thirty minutes later, his meeting with Lord Voldemort and the other returning Death Eaters from the Department of Mysteries having been somewhat anti-climatic given the earlier excitement at the Ministry. Although, The Dark Lord had been somewhat surprised that Lucius was able to accomplish his mission given the reports of the destructive clashes between the Death Eaters and the Order that evening.

Luckily, Malfoy was rewarded for his efforts in retrieving The Prophecy and was allowed to depart without being subjected to the Cruciatus. Some of his other followers weren't so lucky, Bellatrix, in particular. Due to her penchant for violence, she had provoked some of the more brutal fights and, as a result, Mulciber, Jugson and Macnair were killed. The Order had suffered injuries, some critical, but no losses.

Bella was still under the torture curse when Lucius left Lestrange Hall.

The blonde wizard couldn't keep the broad smile from his lips as he twisted into his Apparation, knowing that the person who killed his wife was getting some long overdue punishment.

* * *

Five minutes after Lucius had left to answer his summons, Hermione's eyes began to flutter open. She attempted to sit up but a firm hand on her shoulder held her back. "You need to remain still, Miss Granger, you've suffered a rather nasty seizure and your body needs to recuperate," stated Snape matter-of-factly.

A quick glance at her surroundings let Hermione know that it was just the two of them in the room. "Please, Sir. If Mr. Malfoy has gone, now's my chance to escape...with your help."

"And, why would I do that Miss Granger?" drawled her Potions Master, "Surely, you realize such an action would destroy my cover as a spy for the Order," he stated plainly, "Not to worry, I have a plan in place to facilitate your rescue when you visit Gringott's later."

Hermione's eyebrows lifted towards her hairline with that odd bit of news, "And, just why would I be visiting the Wizarding bank in the first place, Professor?"

"As I mentioned, you've experienced a seizure, one that was induced by a number of factors but, the main cause was the presence of illicit potions," said Snape, his face a cool mask as if conveying a lesson in class, "Substances that need to be purged from your system to prevent a recurrence and the Goblins at Gringott's are the best option to perform such a procedure." 

Hermione wanted to ask questions but, for once she didn't know where to begin. The Professor ignored her obvious dilemma and continued, "In the meantime, I need to change that bandage on your left wrist...with your permission, of course."

All Granger could do was mutely nod her consent. Her normally snarky Professor was tending to her wounds without derisive commentary and it was further confusing her already aching brain. But, that was nothing compared to what happened next.

* * *

Snape removed the sodden wrappings from Granger's wrist, banished them and set about cleaning the oozing lump before he would apply a new bandage. It was a straightforward process...or so he thought.

While damping away the clear fluid with a sterile cloth, the faint scent that had Lucius Malfoy nearly drooling over the little witch in The Hall of Prophecies rose up and similarly smacked Severus Snape in his large aquiline nose.

And, like Lucius, Severus' Alpha nature roared to the surface, much to the tightly buttoned-up, controlled man's embarrassment. Dropping her arm as if it burned him and backing away from the girl, no, seventeen-year-old young woman on the verge of her magical majority, he growled out through tightly clenched teeth, "You've got to be kidding me!"

A burst of laughter from behind him had Snape whirling about to face the smug visage of Lucius-sodding-Malfoy.

"I told you, she's our Omega."

('I'm so fucked.')

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vetero - age, make old
> 
> harrypotterfandom.com:
> 
> Death Eaters at the Battle of The Department of Mysteries


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long delay in posting...still digging out from the aftermath of the hurricane that hit the area in mid-September...😐

Hermione's muzzy brain was reeling with all the new information that she was trying to process. A seizure would certainly explain why she currently felt like the Hogwarts Express had run her over twice but, illicit potions? How had that happened? The only thing she took with any kind of regularity were her once-a-month migraine elixirs. Could someone have tampered with the concoctions before Madame Pomfrey gave her the boxful of phials? She groaned to herself when she remembered the last remaining vials had been broken as she was leading Umbridge off into the Forbidden Forest and she'd vanished the mess when she discovered it later while at Grimmauld Place, there was nothing left of the mixtures or containers to test for contaminants or spells.

But, that led to a whole other set of concerns that soon had Hermione's stomach tied up in knots. Were there other potions being altered and given to the students or Professors at Hogwarts? Had only specific people been targeted? Was Harry being subjected to these illegal mixtures, too? She could definitely see Umbridge being behind something like this but to what ends? If controlling 'troublesome' people like her or Harry were the goal, there were far better ways of going about it.

Just as the room threatened to spin out of control again from this current flurry of questions swirling about her mind, Lucius Malfoy Apparated back into the place and snapped Hermione's attentions back into focus with the mere mention of that one strange word...Omega. Why did it seem so familiar but, at the same time, remain frustratingly beyond her grasp?

Gingerly lifting her chin, Granger faced the other people in the room, determined to get some answers.

* * *

"I've asked you, repeatedly, to stop calling Miss Granger that, Lucius," Snape growled at Malfoy, still trying to quash what his own senses were trying to tell him.

"Now, Severus," purred Lucius, grinning as he realized the cause for his friend's discomfort, "It's obvious that your body has recognized and...responded to our Omega's scent, no matter how much you may deny it."

"For Merlin's sake!" hissed the little witch, pulling the warm blanket up to her chest as a way of distancing herself from the two posturing wizards...one dapper, calm and smirking, the other ruffled, bristling and frowning, "Would one of you, please, just explain to me what in the Bloody Hell is an Omega and why Mr. Malfoy insists that I am one?"

Under different circumstances, the abrupt shift in Malfoy's and Snape's demeanor would have been humorous. But, Hermione was still feeling out of sorts and didn't appreciate them looking at her as if she'd just declared that Bubotuber Pus was a lovely shade of blue and smelled like lilacs.

When neither immediately answered, she continued, "I'm sorry, was that question too difficult for you to understand or do I need to repeat it in another language? Gobbledegook, perhaps?" she snarked, her patience with these two puerile wizards wearing thin. (You'd think with all the years of experience dealing with Harry's and Ron's inane squabbles she'd be well practiced at coping with ridiculous male behavior but, not today, apparently.)

"Cheeky witch," laughed Malfoy, recovering from his initial shock at the Gryffindor's admission of ignorance about her status, "You have to admit, Severus, our lives certainly won't be boring with her around."

He cackled all the more as he ducked the stinging hexes Severus and Hermione both sent his way.

* * *

"You can't possibly have us believe that you know nothing about secondary genders, Miss Granger," scoffed the Potions Master with a steely glint in his eyes, "All fifth years were required to attend that particular Health lecture in the school infirmary during the first week of term last September. And, I know for a fact that you were there, constantly interrupting with a barrage of annoying questions, as I presented the segment concerning Alphas."

Both of Hermione's eyebrows disappeared into her hairline as her mouth fell open in disbelief, "What!? How...I...I would remember something that important, Professor," she spluttered, her hands visibly trembling and her cheeks flushing crimson.

The Potions Master rolled his eyes and scowled, folding his arms across his chest in a clear display of skepticism, "I would expect this act of feigned ignorance from your two dunderheaded shadows but, not from you, Miss Granger."

Despite the defensive fierceness in her eyes, the little witch's shoulders involuntarily curled in on themselves, making her look vulnerable and even smaller in stature, "Whether you want to believe it or not, Sir, I am telling you the truth. I don't know what any of that means...secondary genders, Omega, Alpha...none of it...and, I definitely don't recall you teaching anything else this year except Potions."

* * *

A low growl rumbled through Malfoy's chest when he noticed Granger's reflexive display of distress, "It's obvious that our Omega isn't lying, Severus," the blonde aristocrat snipped, "How can you stand there and continue to ignore what your instincts and logic are screaming at you?" Lucius demanded, baring his elongating canines as he stepped between his friend and the young woman, "I may have no Mastery in the subject but, you said it yourself, there's unmistakable evidence of Dark Magic potions in her system. Isn't it plausible that one of those may have affected her memory?" 

Between the older wizard's protective body language and snarled words, it was as if Lucius had doused Severus with a bucket of ice water. Glancing down at the young witch, Snape took notice of her bowed posture and agitated expression and mentally began kicking himself. Even without Legilimacy, he should have easily picked up on those few visual clues from the young Gryffindor and discerned she wasn't being deceptive. 

Unclenching his jaw and letting his arms drop to his sides, the Potions Master huffed out an extremely exaggerated sigh and conceded, "It's entirely possible those elixirs or one of their components may have damaged Miss Granger's recollection but, I have a distinct feeling that something more insidious could be at work."

* * *

Turning to Hermione, Snape held out one of his hands to help her to her feet, "We need to escort you to Gringott's, Miss Granger, and have the Goblins run their own assessments," he stated, softening the tone of his voice, "If there's anything else besides the Dark potions involved with your memory loss, they should be able to locate the source through their more in-depth scans...and, hopefully, successfully treat the cause. It's your best option."

Hermione looked at her Professor and took the proffered arm, only, instead of using his assistance to stand, she pulled the unsuspecting wizard off balance and down onto the settee next to her.

Ignoring Snape's muttered cursing, and Malfoy's unabashed laughing, Granger said, "Before we go, Professor, I need you to give me an abridged version of that secondary gender lecture...just in case the Goblins can't return my lost memories. I promise not to ask questions until you're done."

* * *

After setting himself to rights, Snape started off with some rather cut and dried facts for Granger, the first being that there were three secondary genders - Alpha, Beta and Omega. And, that every squib, wizard and witch in the Wizarding World presented as one of these three on or shortly after reaching their seventeen birthday with, roughly, sixty percent emerging as Betas, thirty percent as Alphas and ten percent as Omegas. 

Continuing on with the basics, Severus then informed her that Betas were average in height ("Frequently, average in intelligence, too," smirked Snape after pointing out that the large number of stodgy politicians working at the Ministry, including Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, were Betas.) while Alphas were tall in stature ("Both males and females range from 1.828meters to 2.032meters") and Omegas were petite ("Females are 1.4224meters to 1.6256meters and males 1.6002meters to 1.7018meters")

Professor Snape's voice gradually trailed off before he cleared his throat. And, for a split second, Hermione thought that the man was signaling that he was finished with the discussion, that it was time to leave for Gringotts.

That notion was quickly dispelled when Mr. Malfoy's low-pitched chuckling broke the growing silence, "Don't stop now, Severus, you're just getting to the more interesting bits."

"Shut it, Lucius, or I will hex everything you own orange," hissed Severus, two spots of bright pink appearing on his pale cheeks.

Wisely, Hermione kept her mouth shut, not wanting to risk the growing ire of the obviously embarrassed wizard. Only now, the little witch's curiosity was peaked...what could possibly cause this, normally, stoic man to blush like a firstie.

* * *

Snape truly wanted to curse Malfoy for drawing attention to his discomfort but, in the end, he knew that he was merely stalling for time. Ordinarily, this part of the lecture was given by Madame Pomfrey and Professor Sprout while he sat back and read a book. Only now, there was no one else to take over (Lucius was decidedly not an option). No, the responsibility fell squarely on his shoulders to educate the Gryffindor witch...someone who, for some reason, was currently gazing at him like he was a rarely seen magical creature.

He had to bite back the derisive snort that image brought to mind...Severus Snape, the only Flame-Cheeked Dungeon Bat in existence.

* * *

Taking a steadying breath to regain his composure, Snape shifted into his familiar classroom persona, "This brings us to the segment concerning...reproduction," he drawled, taking care to not make eye contact with Granger, "Betas, being that they are the most prevalent, often gravitate towards other Betas but, a handful will pair off with Alphas. Omegas, however, exclusively mate with Alphas. And, it's not unusual for Triads to be formed...typically, one Omega with two Alphas or one Alpha with two Betas."

"There's even been a recorded case of a Tri-bond between one Alpha, one Beta and one Omega...one of my ancestors was involved, of course," interjected Lucius with a hint of family pride on his face, "My Great-Aunt, Cassiopeia Malfoy, was the Omega, Esmerelda Rosier was her Alpha and Eduard DeLacroix was her Beta. Cassie had a set of twin girls with Esmerelda and Eduard bore Esme two boys."

Hermione's mouth dropped open, she couldn't help it, "Wizards can be mothers and witches can be fathers?" she squeaked, desperately trying not to look like a landed fish.

"Yes, Miss Granger," purred Malfoy, a wicked gleam in his eyes, "Isn't magic wonderful."

* * *

Leaning forward slightly so that his reddening cheeks were covered under the curtain of his hair, the Professor continued on, "Since Omegas are so rare, they are the most sought after as mates by Alphas, as a result, fights over Omegas were not uncommon. Over time, Omegas developed a defense mechanism in the form of two scent glands, one on the left wrist and one on the right side of the neck. These ensured that only the most magically compatible Alpha or Alphas would take notice of them when they emerged on their seventeenth birthday. These same glands will later emit a pheromone, signaling to the partner that their Omega has entered a week-long heat cycle...a time when the Omega is at their most fertile. If contraceptives are used, the cycle will recur in three months time."

"Of course, there are secondary indications that an Omega's heat has started," drawled Lucius, giving Hermione a salacious wink, "Increasing fever, heightened senses, the instinctual desire to build a nest in a safe space...and the copious production of a natural lubricant called slick to ease multiple couplings."

Granger stared at Malfoy and Snape with comically wide eyes, then glanced down to the blanket on her lap that she'd begun unconsciously kneading with her hands, letting out a strangled 'meep' as she connected the dots between the information she'd just been given, her current symptoms and the various reactions of the two wizards to her presence.

('Fucking, Fuckity, Fuck! I'm a freaking Omega...Professor Snape and Mr. Malfoy are my Alphas...and, I'm in heat!...and, someone gave me illicit potions...and...')

Mentally shaking her head to derail that train of thought, Hermione hurriedly brought the Health lecture to a screeching halt, "I'm ready to go to Gringott's now, Professor."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.828meters = 6 feet  
> 2.032meters = 6 ft. 8 in.
> 
> 1.4224meters = 4 ft. 8in.  
> 1.6256meters = 5 ft. 4 in.
> 
> 1.6002meters = 5 ft. 3 in.  
> 1.7018meters - 5 ft. 8 in.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter...looking it over and may rewrite, repost

"Oh, but there's so much more...delectable information that we have to share with you, Miss Granger," rumbled Lucius, gliding towards the little witch like a predator stalking its prey, "Don't we, Severus?"

"All of which can wait," hissed Snape, rising from the settee and placing himself between his fellow Slytherin and the shivering Gryffindor, though, he couldn't tell if her shaking was a delayed effect from the seizure that had rattled her system or her Omega's natural reactions to the two Alphas in close proximity to her person. Perhaps, a bit of both?

"If you don't mind," Hermione blurted out, trying to sound more steady than she felt, "I'd really like to go to Gringott's, now, to find out what the Goblins can do to help me."

Malfoy let out a put-upon sigh, so much for continuing to tease these two ('Such spoilsports,' he thought.) "Very well, if you insist, little Omega," reluctantly giving in to her wishes, "But, make no mistake witch," he purred, eyes gleaming with amusement at Granger's poorly concealed response to his voice, "We will continue this discussion later, hopefully, to our mutual...satisfaction."

* * *

Hermione had to bite the inside of her cheeks to prevent herself from moaning aloud. What was wrong with her? She wasn't this wanton, needy, mewling being! She was an independent witch with specific goals for her life, for Merlin's sake! Is this what being an Omega meant? Throwing away all propriety and entertaining thoughts to climb these two powerful wizards like they were trees?

Albeit, they were tall, masculine, sensually breathtaking trees that she wanted to....Shaking her head again to dispel those libidinous thoughts from overtaking her fevered brain, Hermione carefully rose from the settee and walked closer to Professor Snape, believing that he was the safer of the two wizards in the room to be near at this point. Unfortunately...or maybe, fortunately, for her, Hermione couldn't sense the physical and emotional war currently raging behind the Potions Master's reserved, buttoned-up appearance.

* * *

While Lucius was, unashamedly, the more flirtatious, Severus was, by no means, innocent in his thoughts towards the young witch and was hanging on by a rapidly unraveling thread behind his Occlumency shields. Her scent, which was now completely filling the small room, was playing havoc with his, normally, well ordered and sensible mind, short-circuiting his logic like nothing had ever done before, causing him to want nothing more than to give in to his primal instincts, to sweep the little Omega off her feet and drag her into the opulent master bedroom to have his wicked way with her the way his rutting Alpha wished, that carnal side he was embarrassed to admit was as much a part of him as breathing that desperately longed to mark her with his bite for the whole world to see...'Mine!' his animal brain howled.

* * *

From where she was standing, Hermione couldn't see the slight sheen of perspiration forming across on the Professor's forehead nor the twitching of his hands at his side as he fought the impulse to touch the exposed skin on her arm. Snape had to act quickly or they would not leave this safehouse anytime soon.

Clearing his throat to get Malfoy's and Granger's attentions, Snape managed to grind out through clenched teeth, "Follow me, Miss Granger," turning his back on the young woman and stalking towards the large stone fireplace on the other side of the room, "We'll take the Floo directly to the bank manager's office."

Breathing out a shaky sigh of relief, Hermione hurriedly followed behind the dour man in black, keeping a wary eye on the blonde aristocrat walking behind her who was, currently, taking in both their retreating forms with a clear appreciation in his eyes.

* * *

Stepping up to the fireplace, Severus grabbed a handful of Floo powder and called out "Grimsby's Office, Gringott's" before disappearing from sight.

Just as Hermione was about to follow Snape through the flames, Lucius leaned in close, his warm, sweet scented breath tickling her neck, "I look forward to meeting the real you on the other side, little witch."

But, before she could ask Malfoy what the Bloody Hell he meant by that, Hermione was pulled through the green fire, stumbling as she emerged through the hearth, saved from falling flat on her face only by the quick reflexes of the Potions Master.

* * *

('She's so warm, so soft...and practically purring from a simple touch from my hands...Merlin! The things I could teach her') thought Snape as he caught Granger about the waist, keeping her from falling to the floor as she emerged from the Floo. But, reasoning fought back for control and slapped his wandering, scent-addled mind back to their present situation, ('Fuck! Minerva will hex my bollocks off and make me wear them as earrings if...when she finds out about our status!') Letting go of the young witch as quickly as possible, without dropping her on her arse, Severus moved back several paces to regain, at least, the illusion of respectability and self-restraint.

Grimsby, who had watched the two flustered people awkwardly distance themselves, merely shook his head. Silly wizards and witches with their, equally, inane sense of decorum...it was obvious to anyone with eyes that they were bondmates. Then, Lucius Malfoy walked out of the fireplace and things really became interesting. Ahhh, now he understood the first pair's nervousness...a Triad...that would tend to complicate matters.

Clearing his throat to get the trio's attentions, the bank manager said, "Welcome to Gringott's, Lord Malfoy, Potions Master Snape and...guest. I understand one of you is in need of an assessment. Follow me, if you would please."

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

Snape, Granger and Malfoy trailed closely behind Grimsby, leaving the bank manager's office through a long, narrow hallway lit by strings of small mage lights hanging down from the ceiling, the luminescent effect reminding Hermione of pictures she'd seen once in a book about the fascinating glow-worm caves in New Zealand. At the very end of the dark green marble corridor was an ocean-blue doorway covered with an intricate pattern of runes. But, the markings were nothing that any of the three humans recognized. Smirking at his clients' curious stares at the unfamiliar symbols, Grimsby murmured 'Goblin Moon Runes' before he tapped on a select number of the marks to unlock the passageway.

As the heavy wooden door slowly swung inward, their diminutive guide waved Severus, Lucius and Hermione on through to a large circular room filled with more symbols and strings of mage lights. Waiting on the other side of this space from the group were three more Goblins, each wearing a hooded, dove-grey robe with gold embellishments on the hems, marking them as Healers among the Goblin Nation. And, all of them were standing around a short white granite pillar on which sat three shallow rock crystal bowls, each containing a colorful mercury-like fluid...the first a sapphire blue, the next an emerald green and the last a translucent silver.

Grimsby paused and looked over to the three humans, "Which of you needs to be assessed and given the cleansing procedure?" he asked, it was a mere formality on his part as anyone could clearly see that the young witch was showing signs of illness and distress.

"That would be Miss Granger," drawled Snape, tilting his head slightly towards the little Gryffindor, "I ran a preliminary set of scans over her before our arrival that indicated the presence of illicit potions and confirmed them to be suppressants. Based on her response to this discovery, it would seem they were given to her without her prior knowledge or consent, they also appear to have affected her memory of certain events, in particular, the Health lecture at Hogwarts regarding secondary gender presentations and all that entails. Due to time constraints, I was only able to give Miss Granger a brief overview of the materials."

There were a few hisses of displeasure from the three hooded figures and Grimsby at this information, causing both Snape and Malfoy to raise an eyebrow at their reactions. But before either of the two wizards could ask any questions, the Goblin standing closest to the human trio pulled a bit of spelled parchment from a hidden pocket and carefully approached Hermione, "I will need three drops of your blood on this page to begin our analysis," the Healer stated, the cowl falling away to reveal a female Elder. 

Granger pulled her wand from her jeans pocket to perform a slicing spell only to have the Goblin shake her head as she withdrew a delicate silver knife from her grey robes, "We must use this charmed blade, witchling," the Elder said as she gently took Hermione's left hand into hers and made a quick slash across the girl's index finger, the three required drops slowly falling to the page from the small wound.

As soon as the dark crimson liquid hit the parchment, writing began to appear and gradually fill the entire sheet. After sealing the cut on Hermione's finger, the female Goblin silently read the results and snarled, then, turned to the other two hooded figures and began rattling off a frenzied string of Gobbledegook.

('Well, that certainly doesn't sound promising.')

* * *

Grimsby took the scroll from the Healer and strolled over to the young witch, "Elder Marshbank just confirmed that she and her two colleagues will be able to purge these suppressants from your system but, it will not be a simple undertaking," explained the bank manager, his brow deeply furrowed as he spoke, "And, once the cleansing procedure has been finished, they strongly recommend that you remain in seclusion until your body has fully acclimated to your secondary gender...that's the easy part," he said glancing back down at the parchment.

After a moments pause, he continued, "Our diagnostics also found that, when the inhibiter potions blocked your Omega presentation, they also severely impaired your magical development. Which means that after the source of this obstruction has been fully removed, your magics will automatically seek to reach their rightful levels. In order to prevent your magical core from being damaged by this power spike, Elder Marshbank and Healers Towbane and Dartmire will need to carefully monitor and regulate this energy influx...all of this will take a minimum of three hours to safely complete. 

Despite her growing concern over this bit of news, Granger was anxious to find out more information, "How long will I need to be in seclusion, what else does your screening test say, why were you and the Healers so upset by what Professor Snape told you, do the readings indicate who did this to me?" asked Hermione, visibly shaking from her nervousness and spiking fever, "Will it....?"

Grimsby held up a hand to stop the little witch's flurry of questions, "First things first, Miss Granger," he said, baring his teeth in the Goblin version of a smile before further explaining that the procedure involved the administration of a detoxification elixir. Pointing to the crystal bowl with the translucent silver liquid, he added, "Ordinarily, just one small vial of this mixture would be sufficient to do the job but, as you were dosed with suppressants for an extensive period of time, you'll need to consume half the volume in this dish to properly clear your system," stated Grimsby, the Healers confirming this with a solemn nod of their heads, "Make no mistake, the removal of these Dark Magic potions will be...uncomfortable. Do we have your consent to begin?"

Hermione's guts were in twisted up in knots with the whole idea but, in the end, she answered with a simple 'Yes'. She'd endured debilitating migraines these past three months, surely, the purification of her body couldn't possibly be any worse...

* * *

Lucius and Severus paled, then flushed with anger as they listened to Grimsby. It was bad enough that someone had tampered with Hermione's Omega presentation, but, when Malfoy and Snape heard that their little witch's magics had been bound by these potions, a low growl began to rumble deep within their chests. Lucius' eyes met Severus' and a silent agreement was made, whoever did this to Granger would wish for death before they were finished with them.

But, that would all have to wait until after Granger was once again whole and healthy. 

* * *

Healer Towbane led Hermione to the center of a large, bowl-like depression in the floor that she'd not noticed until now. "You will need to disrobe before we have you drink the elixir, Miss Granger," he said matter-of-factly, "And, place your wand in the warded box Grimsby is holding, he will ensure it's safety until you are recovered."

Hermione's eyes went comically wide, "What do mean, I have to be naked and hand over my wand?" she squeaked, her face turning scarlet as she instinctively wrapped her arms tightly about herself, her cherished vinewood clutched tightly in her right hand, "Why is that even necessary?" she asked, biting back a groan. ('Is it possible to die of embarrassment?')

"It is standard practice for this process as it will prevent your clothing and wand from being ruined from the effects of the detoxifier," Towbane stated flatly, studiously ignoring the young witch's agitated state, "Plus, it will allow Marshbank, Dartmire and I to directly monitor you for any changes to the skin across your chest and upper thighs for any indications of an adverse reaction...because those effects will need to be counteracted as soon as possible."

"I think it best, for Miss Granger's peace of mind, if Severus and I waited elsewhere," interrupted Lucius, wanting to ease some of their Omega's distress in any way that they could manage. Severus nodded silently in agreement, trying to keep his own cheeks from flushing pink after hearing the additional requirement of her treatment.

"That's not an option," declared the Elder, staring at the two human males as if they were a pair of complete dunderheads, "You both are Miss Granger's Alphas, are you not," she stated rather than asked, "Once she has been cleansed of the Dark Magic potions and her core stabilized, she will need her bondmates' bodies and magic to be intimately connected with her while she recuperates...a simple holding of her hands will suffice," Marshbank hurriedly added when she saw the two wizards' eyebrows lift towards their hairlines the second she mentioned the words 'intimately connected'.

Grimsby, having had more experience with Wizarding kind and their, often, prudish sense of propriety, smirked, "If you are that concerned about preserving your Omega's dignity, I can provide you gentlemen with blindfolds, if you wish. Although, I can't understand why you wouldn't want to look at your mate, she is rather lovely, don't you agree?"

Hermione's face wasn't the only one in that room to turn bright red.

* * *

Mortified didn't even begin to describe how Severus felt at this moment. And, his brain and extensive vocabulary seemed to have abandoned him, too, as his mouth opened and closed a couple of times without a single word being uttered.

Lucius, understanding his fellow wizard's plight, spoke for the both of them, "As it's her body, we leave the choice entirely up to Miss Granger," lowering his eyes so that Hermione could not see the conflicting looks of concern and longing within them, "What is your decision, my dear?"

Granger's head was spinning and starting to throb in time with her heartbeat. Between all the secondary gender information Professor Snape had imparted to her before traveling to Gringott's, her steadily rising fever, the Goblin's assessment and recommended treatment, she was feeling just a tad overwhelmed. And, then, Mr. Malfoy had to go and do something genuinely thoughtful by giving her a chance to have some small say in what was happening around her. She didn't know whether to laugh or cry at this point.

Taking a deep breath, and deciding to be pragmatic while her mind was still, somewhat, functioning, Granger replied, "Blindfolds...please."

* * *

While Lucius and Severus were being positioned about the bowl-like structure where Hermione was to be for the entirety of her procedure, Snape re-asked one of the myriad of questions that she, and they, desperately wanted answered, "Did your diagnostics reveal who did this to Miss Granger?"

Grimsby and Marshbank exchanged a knowing look before he turned to the dour wizard, "I'm afraid that is a rather complicated issue, Master Snape, as there are several magical signatures intertwined with the Dark Magic. Naturally, Miss Granger's is one, being the recipient of the potion and one, we are certain, is the brewer. But, as this person does not have an account with this Gringott's branch, and therefore neither a wand nor blood imprint are on file here, we can't match a name to them."

"Can we presume from your reactions, you have identified some of the others?" Lucius inquired, his face was the picture of calm but, underneath his Occlumency shields he was a mixture of frustration and indignation for their little Omega.

Again, Grimsby and the Elder conferred with one another through a glance, "One appears to be that of a house-elf," replied Marshbank, "But, that's all we can determine about them as there's no family affiliation tied to that being's magics," that caused Snape to mutter under his breath, "Most likely a Hogwarts or Ministry elf as they're tied to the institution and not individuals or families." 

Ignoring the man's commentary, Grimsby then added, "Two others belong to that of a pair of witches, however, as they are still under-age, we can't officially disclose their identities without the express consent of their parents."

Catching the Goblin's, not so subtle, hint, Snape smirked, "And, unofficially?"

The bank manager wrote out the names on a piece of parchment and handed it over to Granger who read them and growled, "Marietta Edgecombe and Pansy Parkinson."

Lucius opened his mouth to ask Hermione for more details but, Severus shook his head...now was not the time to speculate on that pairs' motivations, "Was there anyone else?"

"We believe that there's at least one other," said Marshbank, frowning, "Unfortunately, that information has been masked behind a strong Celamentum charm and it will take a cursebreaker a few days to reverse it without destroying the signature, unfortunately, we have more pressing issues to attend to at this moment," gesturing to Miss Granger who was nervously waiting for the two wizards to cover their eyes so she could begin disrobing for her detoxifying procedure.

"Of course," drawled Lucius, plucking the silken cloth from Grimsby's hand, "But...you will inform us as soon as you have the name," he said, giving the Elder a meaningful look, leaving no doubts about his intentions towards this unknown witch or wizard before blindfolding himself.

* * *

Snape said nothing as he tied the proffered scrap of material over his own eyes. Deep down he had a growing suspicion of this person's identity and the thought of it made his stomach sour. Who else would have fairly ready access to Granger and a house-elf with no familial ties but, that twinkly-eyed, old goat of a Headmaster...Albus-Sodding-Dumbledore.

Only, he was still unclear as to how and why Miss Edgecombe and Miss Parkinson became involved in this matter, what could possibly be worth the risk of handling a Dark Magic potion to assist Dumbledore in this manipulation of Miss Granger's Omega presentation?

All other thoughts Snape may have had about this puzzle were brought to a screeching halt when a heart-wrenching cry echoed around the room. 

"Please...make it stop!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> celamentum - secret, concealment


	9. Chapter 9

Remus and Kingsley stood in the Ministry Atrium near the spot where Shacklebolt last saw Hermione Granger before Lucius Malfoy abducted her. He and Arthur Weasley were still struggling with that fact, that they'd been mere seconds too late to stop that reviled Deatheater from absconding with the young witch.

Lupin saw the man's distress and did his best to comfort the other wizard, telling him that he'd done all he could in the moment.

"That's just it, Remus," snapped Kingsley, pacing the floor, "If Arthur and I had only been a few minutes faster up that charmed staircase, we could've added the anti-Apparation ward to the lobby and prevented Malfoy from taking Hermione in the first place! We..."

"Had you two rushed matters, then Rookwood and Dolohov would've gotten away," stated Lupin, placing a calming hand on the other wizard's shoulder, "And, if you hadn't taken that necessary time to duel and re-capture those two escaped criminals when you did, how many more Order members would they have seriously hurt, or even killed, including me? So, stop beating yourself up about the 'What If's' here."

The werewolf then turned back to the task at hand, giving Shacklebolt a few moments to compose himself. He had taken only a few steps forward when he froze in place, sniffing the air thoroughly and nearly gagging as a result.

"What's the matter, what did you find?" asked Kingsley, rushing over to Remus' side.

Lupin shook his head and moved back a few paces before answering, "I found Harry's and Malfoy's scents without any problems but...there's something terribly wrong with Hermione's trace," he said coughing loudly, turning his head and spitting out the sour taste in his mouth.

"Don't tell me she was wounded by that bastard before she was kidnapped," Shacklebolt said with a tightness in his voice, his thoughts immediately jumping to worst case scenarios.

Seeing the growing concern in Kingsley's eyes, Remus quickly added, "No. There are no signs of blood but...decidedly something more serious."

"What could be worse than a severely bleeding wound, broken bones or curse damage?" murmured Shacklebolt, his complexion paling, contemplating what Malfoy could have done to the little Gryffindor before Disapparating with her.

"I'm not one-hundred-percent sure, we'd need Snape or another Potions Master here to confirm my suspicions," Lupin claimed, not looking the other man in the eye.

"Don't give me that!" growled Kingsley, taking hold of Remus' arm and shaking him, "You're just delaying things. What. Did. You. Find!?"

Lupin let out a heavy sigh before answering, "Hermione was in trouble before Lucius Malfoy took her," he replied, a marked uneasiness in his tone, "Her natural fragrance was almost completely masked by a harsh chemical smell, specifically, that of an illegal suppressant that I've come across only a few times, once near a seedy apothecary in Knockturn Alley," Remus continued, not wanting to believe the implications of his discovery, "Which suggests that Hermione was being dosed with this potion by someone she trusts or, at the very least, knows well enough to allow near her as I can't believe she'd willingly subject herself to this elixir, especially, given its harsh effects. And, given the strength of the concoction's odor interwoven with her scent, she's been given this drug for quite some time. If I had to hazard a guess, for three months...at a minimum."

Shacklebolt scrubbed a hand across his face in frustration, "That's something we'll have to deal with later," he said, filing that bit of information away for another time, "Can you use it to track Granger?"

"Yes, I've already added it to the modified locator spell you taught me. This way," stated the werewolf, moving towards the main entrance. ('Hold on, little cub. We're on our way.')

* * *

At the sound of their Omega's anguished cries, Lucius and Severus attempted to rush to her aid. The Goblins, however, had already taken precautions to prevent them from interfering with the cleansing process, using an industrial strength Sticking Charm to glue their blindfolds and bodies in place the moment they sat down along the edge of the bowl-shaped structure.

Naturally, the two Alphas fought against the spell as they cursed at Grimsby and the three healers. All four Goblins merely smirked and shook their heads at the wizards' colorful threats, knowing that they were only lashing out due to their protective instincts. Taking pity on the struggling pair, and not wanting to risk the off-chance that they'd break their restraints, Healer Marshbank cast a Somnus on Malfoy and Snape and linked a monitor to the charm that would free them as soon as Granger's detoxification was completed and her magics stabilized...approximately, in three hours time.

Grimsby, in the meantime, left the Healers to their work and returned to his office, taking a copy of Hermione's assessment with him. He needed to start a number of discrete inquiries on Miss Granger's behalf, starting with making contact with his cousin at Hogwarts, Professor Filius Flitwick...someone that he could trust implicitly to secretly liaise with the Hogwarts' house-elf Matron. The Goblins may not be able to discern which Hogwarts elf might have been involved with the handling of the illicit suppressants through their tests but, the elf-Matron certainly would recognize the magical signature if it was, indeed, one of the school's elves.

* * *

Dumbledore was feeling rather smug, at the moment. While still at Order Headquarters, he received an urgent firecall from the Board of Governors stating that, after an emergency meeting, he'd been reinstated as Headmaster of Hogwarts, effective immediately. That had been followed up with an equally satisfying message via post owl from the Wizengamot informing him that Cornelius Fudge had been ousted through a unanimous vote of 'no confidence' and replaced by Rufus Scrimgeour. 

The fellow Gryffindor promised to be far easier to 'guide' through the upcoming proposals on educational reforms, certainly less troublesome than the increasingly paranoid Cornelius...or, at least, Albus has hopes that the former Chief Auror would be far more amenable. If not, he could always push the man out of office with a carefully crafted scandal. Ministers were a knut a dozen, after all.

* * *

After returning from Grimmauld Place, Albus wasted no time in implementing a few changes. The first was in summoning the young Miss Padma Patil from her dorms in Ravenclaw Tower and securing her agreement (albeit with a few strong compulsion spells) to aid Potter and the youngest male Weasley with their schoolwork, freeing their time up for the more important task of recruiting and training new members for the DA.

With those missions once again back on track, Albus relaxed on the leather wingback chair nearest his fireplace with a large tumbler of Odgen's Finest Firewhiskey to celebrate. Now, he just had to patiently wait to see if that meddling werewolf and Auror recovered the Granger chit and quietly remove her from Hogwarts before the Chosen-One and his red-haired sidekick discovered that she'd been rescued.

Perhaps, he could arrange for a 'tragic accident' to befall the young witch by Imperio'ing her and sending her to wander into a nest of those Acromantulas in The Forbidden Forest. Then, all he'd need to do was Obliviate Lupin and Shacklebolt.

That would certainly be the easiest solution but, of course, it would all depend on how many other people that pair of wizards told about finding the girl before she was brought back to the school...if it turned out to be more than three, he'd just have to improvise something.

('I know, I'll stage a 'Deatheater' raid on the poor child and her Muggle parents this summer. Naturally, Potter and Weasley will mourn her loss. But, by the time the next term starts, they'll be far too busy with other important matters to waste their energy missing her,' he mused, taking a large sip of Firewhiskey, 'Yes, that will work out nicely and be much better for my plans in the long run.')

* * *

Hermione had never been so wrong. The cleansing process was far worse than any migraine she had ever experienced and she was not afraid of admitting it, in fact, she'd gladly confess her mistake to anyone who'd listen, at least, until her voice gave out...if only the Goblins would answer her pleas to alleviate her suffering and humiliation.

Oh, yes, that was one little tidbit that the Healers had conveniently left out...that her purification procedure would involve the, supremely, embarrassing expulsion of every body fluid imaginable from all possible orifices (including the pores of her skin!), beginning seconds after she finished drinking the carefully measured detoxifying potion.

Hermione didn't know whether to laugh or cry at this point...in the end, the agonizing pain won out and she screamed. "Please. Make it stop!"

* * *

Getting no response from the Goblin healers, Granger tried in vain to get her Alphas' attentions, her rambling pleading and physical misery causing her to miss hearing the spells that Marshbank had cast over them.

Unable to clearly see the two wizards because of the copious amounts of oily tears currently leaking from her eyes, Hermione's fevered mind convinced her that their silence could mean only one thing...that they hadn't truly cared about her, their supposed concern for 'their Omega' had merely been a cruel joke at her expense. And that delirious thought broke her resolve, causing her to howl out her distress all the louder.

Mercifully, darkness closed in on her and claimed all conscious thought mere seconds later.

* * *

Grimsby sat back in his office chair and sighed. Flitwick had, unsurprisely, been outraged by the news concerning the drugging of a student under his care (wisely, he had withheld the little witch's identity for all their sakes). And, it had taken little persuasion on the bank manager's part to convince the Charms Professor to assist in the tracking down of a possible suspect amongst the school's elves. 

"I'll firecall you whether the elf-Matron recognizes the magical signature or not, Cousin," promised Filius, looking at the isolated piece of the potion's analysis he'd received from Grimsby, "I must take my leave of you, though, Dumbledore's being reinstated as Headmaster by the new Minister of Magic and he's called a staff meeting."

"I understand, Cousin," replied Grimsby, keeping his opinions about that particular wizard to himself, "May you have a fruitful hunt."

"And, may you have equal success in your endeavors," stated Flitwick, closing down the Floo.

* * *

Less than an hour later, Grimsby was sitting back at his desk and re-reading Miss Granger's assessment, his eyes shining in wicked amusement as additional lines shimmered into place on the parchment (an expected consequence of the little witch's cleansing that only he and the three Healers were aware of...for the moment, at least).

As he continued to skim the corrected information on the page, he mused aloud, "I wonder if Miss Granger was aware that she was adopted?"

* * *

In the Goblin Moon Runed chambers, Towbane raised a single bushy eyebrow as the Healers' copy of their patient's status changed before his eyes to read:

Hermione Jean Granger (Adoptive name) - altered birthdate 19 September 1979

Birth name: Maia Athena Peverell - born 31 July 1979

Time-Turner enhanced age : 17 

Blood Status - Muggleborn with addendums : natural parents were of Pureblood families, disowned and Obliviated due to squib status; Paternal line distantly related to Muggle British Royal family, one of two surviving members of this magical branch

Adoption date - 30 November 1981 (original birth records sealed on this date): Father (Muggle) - David James Granger; Mother (Muggle) - Elizabeth Jeanne Granger (nee Bouchard)

Birth Parents: Father (squib) - Andrew Corbin Peverell - deceased 31 October 1981; Mother (squib) - Athena Selene Peverell (nee Gaunt) - deceased 31 October 1981

Titles (unclaimed): (Paternal) Lady Peverell-Ravenclaw (Ravenclaw by right of conquest); (Maternal) Lady Gaunt-Slytherin (Slytherin by direct blood descent)

Soulbond (unconsummated): two Alpha mates: Lord Lucius Abraxas Malfoy (Pureblood), Potions Master Severus Tobias Snape-Prince (Half-blood, Prince Lordship unclaimed)

Magical gifts : (Gaunt-Slytherin bloodline) Beast adept, Beast-Speak, Natural Animagus (multiple forms); (Peverell-Ravenclaw bloodline) Elemental affinities - Earth and Fire magics

Two living relatives - distant cousins (Gaunt line) - Tom Marvolo Riddle, Jr.; (Peverell line) - Harry James Potter 

(Original birth records sealed by unknown person(s), identity obscured through Dark Magic) 

Magical Inheritances: (see secondary attachments for details outlining Perverell-Ravenclaw and Gaunt-Slytherin families' vault contents, investments and physical properties)

Glancing at the next page, which listed the contents in the first of the three Peverell-Ravenclaw vaults, Towbane let out a low whistle, "Merlin! This child's going to be richer than the Malfoys!"

"Put that paper down and get over here, Towbane," hissed Elder Marshbank, irritated that the younger Goblin wasn't as attentive to their patient's changing magic levels, "I need you and Dartmire to continue monitoring and washing Miss Granger until I return."

"Where are you going, Elder?" asked Dartmire, levitating another basin, filling it with a body-temperature Aguamenti and mixing in a citrus-scented soap solution before pouring the warm liquid over the unconscious, filth-covered little witch, the fluids all then flowing away through numerous small drains at the bottom of the bowl-shaped floor.

"I'm going to enlist four more senior Healers for the next phase," replied Marshbank, hurrying towards the door, "Based on Miss Granger's latest readings, the three of us won't be able to safely regulate her increasing magic levels without the additional help."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> somnus - sleep, slumbers, drowsiness


	10. Chapter 10

Harry, after spending a couple of uncomfortable hours being mother-henned by Sirius and a few other Order members, managed to make it safely back to Hogwarts from Grimmauld Place with Arthur Weasley Side-Along Apparating him to the castle's front gates and Hagrid escorting him up to the Great Hall. But, as soon as he slipped through the portrait entrance at Gryffindor Tower and into the Common Room, Ron and Neville cornered him and began inundating him with questions.

"What happened with Umbridge? And, what was all that about a secret weapon for Dumbledore?" asked Neville, more interested in the latter rather than the former. Naturally, Longbottom had a list of other questions for Harry but, when his housemate's face began to pale at an alarming rate, his need to know the answers to things rapidly shifted to a growing concern for his friend's well-being.

"Never mind about that or the pink toad. What happened to coming back for us and going to the Ministry to rescue Sirius?" demanded Ron, his hands clenched into fists at his side, his face flushing to an unflattering shade of red, "And, where's 'Mione? Or did you decide to ditch her, too, like you did with me, Neville and Luna?"

Harry's guts were already twisting with guilt over leaving his friends behind but, even so, he felt like punching Ron in the head at this moment, "Hermione was the one who changed the plans at the last minute but, that doesn't matter. Sirius was at Grimmauld Place the whole time, he wasn't in any danger...that wretched old house-elf, Kreacher, lied to me about Padfoot not being home when I Floo-called earlier!" his complexion quickly shifting from a milk-white to a deep pink, "Only, we decided to go to the Ministry anyway. Well, that's not entirely true," he said, quickly correcting himself, "After we found Sirius, I snuck away from Grimmauld Place and headed off on my own to The Department of Mysteries to retrieve The Prophecy, I truly believed we still needed it to help us win this upcoming war against old Snake-Face. Hermione simply followed soon after to try and stop me," he sadly confessed, "It...it was a trap like she kept trying to tell me...it's my fault she's missing." 

"What the Bloody Hell do you mean by that!?" screeched Ron, his freckles now hidden by the nearly purple flush on his cheeks, "Where is she, what happened at the Ministry!?"

Harry reflexively flinched as Ron reached a furious Molly Weasley volume. Ignoring the fuming ginger-haired boy as best he could and looking down at his feet to hide the growing distress on his face, Potter continued, "We were caught by a Death Eater in The Hall of Prophecy and Hermione...she made a deal with him to save my life," he explained, his voice breaking slightly, "Kingsley and Arthur almost caught him in the Atrium but, the bastard managed to escape...he's...he got away with The Prophecy and kidnapped Hermione, too," Harry stammered, a few tears now rolling down his cheeks and falling to the floor, "Remus and Kingsley are out there now trying to track them down but, Dumbledore believes...he said it's a waste of time, that she's already...lost to us."

"Dumbledore would never have said anything like that! You're lying!" roared the youngest male Weasley, roughly shoving Potter on the shoulder, causing the raven-haired boy to stumble backwards towards one of the large sofas in the room.

"I'm not lying, you git!" snarled Harry, his own hands now curling into fists, "And, if you won't take my word for it, just ask Sirius or Remus, they were there!"

Longbottom stepped between his two dormmates to stop things from escalating into an all out brawl, "Who took her Harry, which Death Eater? murmured Neville, changing the subject, although, he was fairly certain he wasn't ready to hear the answer.

"Lucius Malfoy."

"Bloody. Buggering. Hell!"

* * *

The moment Lupin and Shacklebolt exited the Ministry, the locator charm's signal splintered, leading the wizards in opposite directions. Kingsley followed the pale orange ribbons of the first trail, until they disappeared at the waters' edge near Dover, while Remus chased down the dark red strings of the second trace as it passed through The Leaky Cauldron....these wound up sending him on a scenic loop about Diagon Alley before disappearing through the front doorway at Gringott's. 

When Lupin entered the lobby, it took a great deal of restraint on his part to keep from dropping to his hands and knees to sniff the ground like a bloodhound in a desperate attempt to pick up the faintest hint of Hermione's presence. His worries soon faded away, and his hopes started to climb, when his nose began to sting and his eyes to water the closer he got to the end of the concourse, the side where the branch manager's office was located. Granger's acrid fragrance was even stronger near Grimsby's door than it had been in the Ministry Atrium.

Ignoring the stares of the nearby bank patrons, Remus cast his Patronus, sending an urgent message to Kingsley, "Get back to Gringott's as fast as you can, Hermione's definitely been through this place recently, with luck, she's still here. If not, hopefully, one of the Goblins will remember seeing her or knows where she and Malfoy were headed to next." 

* * *

Elder Marshbank returned with four more Goblin healers just as Towbane and Dartmire finished bathing their patient, the little witch's eyes slowly fluttering open as the larger group drew closer.

"Oh, Merlin! More spectators," groaned Hermione as she curled over into a tight ball to hide as much of her naked body as possible, "Please tell me my cleansing is nearly done."

"I'm afraid the longest stage of your treatment has yet to start, Miss Granger," Marshbank stated calmly, taking up her position at Hermione's head, "Now, just relax witchling and we'll begin," she instructed, waving her hand over the young woman and levitating her a meter above the purification basin.

Hermione clamped her eyes tightly shut and hissed, "A little warning would have been nice, I don't like heights!"

The Elder merely 'hmmm'd' before casting another spell, one that highlighted the spots each Goblin was to focus their magics upon during the stabilization phase, "Dartmire, keep an eye on Miss Granger's vitals, everybody else, take your places and wait for my signal to proceed."

Before Hermione could ask what was to happen next, a searing jolt of white-hot pain burned along the full length of her spine, effectively taking her breath away.

"Now, everyone!" ordered Marshbank, holding a gnarled hand over Granger's face as a bright golden strand of healing magics formed between her outstretched palm to a glowing blue circle on the young woman's forehead, "Maintain a steady level of power between yourself and Miss Granger on your designated pathway," she commanded as the light between her and her patient began to rhythmically pulse, "And, hold on tight, this is going to be a bumpy ride!"

* * *

Flitwick was sitting quietly at his desk marking the last of his fifth years' essays when a larger-than-average sized house-elf popped into his office and bowed to him with respect, "How may Hestia serve yous, Master of Charms," asked the Hogwarts elf-Matron.

"Ah, yes, Hestia. I have a rather important mission for you that requires your utmost discretion," said Filius, taking the piece of parchment Grimsby had given him and placing it in the waiting elf's hands," I need you to help me locate the house-elf that has this particular magical signature, that is, of course, provided they work here in the school or surrounding grounds," he stated, watching the elf-Matron's face for any sign of recognition as she looked at the patterns on the paper, "It is vital that he or she be identified as soon as possible as a student's health is at stake," he explained, anxiously tapping his index finger on the top of his desk," But, most importantly, you are to tell no one of what you discover on this task except myself...under no circumstances is The Headmaster to be informed."

Her moss-green eyes widened at that last bit of instruction but, Hestia quickly gave Flitwick a knowing smile which meant she understood his implication...whatever this house-elf had done, the Professor suspected that Dumbledore was somehow involved.

"Hestia sees, Sir," she replied, running her fingertips over the unknown signature, her own magics committing it to memory, "I will do's my best to help yous find this naughty elf and brings them back to yous for punishments."

"Well, lets just start with finding out if they are associated with the school," said Filius, pleased that the elf-Matron didn't balk about leaving Albus out of the loop.

"Hestia is most happy to do's as yous ask, Master of Charms."

* * *

Dumbledore was relaxing on the chaise lounge in his private quarters, pleasantly numb from his generous Firewhiskey consumption, when his wards pinged. Someone had given the password to the stone gargoyle and were currently winding their way up the spiral staircase towards his office.

"Probably that nosy old cat, Minerva," he grumbled as he carefully levered himself up, "May as well see what the blasted woman wants, I can always Confund her and send her on her way if she's just here for a late night chin-wag."

Imagine his surprise when it was not McGonagall but, two students who were waiting on him when he arrived in his office. "Miss Edgecombe, Miss Parkinson it's thirty minutes until curfew, what's so urgent that it couldn't wait until morning to be discussed?" he asked, thankful that he had downed a Sober-Up potion before entering the room.

The two girls nervously looked at one another before Marietta finally spoke up, "We have your supply of 'special supplements', Headmaster," she replied barely above a whisper as she pulled out three black crystal vials from her robe pocket, "After Umbridge had you sacked, we attempted to send these to you through owl post but, they came back undeliverable."

Albus bit back a growl of displeasure ('Bollocks! I forgot all about those suppressants. Never mind...Miss Granger is gone and Miss Patil won't be needing them.') "Ah, yes, just leave those on my desk then be on your way before you're caught out by Mr. Filch."

"What about our payment, sir?" murmured Pansy, frowning at the twinkly-eyed wizard, "We can't procure any more of these until you do."

Unlocking a hidden side drawer on his desk, Dumbledore pulled out two small leather pouches full of coins and tossed them towards the two witches, "As that project has recently been canceled, I no longer require your services. Take your money and leave."

"But, what about this!?" scowled Marietta, pulling up the fringe covering her forehead, revealing the dark purple spots that spelled out the word 'SNEAK', "You promised that you'd fix this if we did what you asked."

"And, what about my part of the bargain?" demanded Pansy, reaching for one of the partially spilled bags of galleons, "You guaranteed to seal the betrothal contract between me and Draco!"

"So I did, Miss Edgecombe, Miss Parkinson," smirked The Headmaster, subtly waving his hand and striking both girls with a Stupefy, "Pity that neither of you will remember this little arrangement of ours. Obliviate!" he snarled before gathering up and returning the two bags of galleons to the specially warded drawer. "No sense in wasting good money on these two vain and greedy bints." 

* * *

Hermione grit her teeth, trying her best not to scream, when the first spike of magic struck. She imagined that this was what it must feel like to be attacked by a nest full of Blast-Ended Skrewts, alternately being sucked dry of blood, stung and burnt. Fortunately, the overlapping sensations didn't last long as the Goblin healers hurriedly moved to counterbalance the power surge.

As the pain gradually subsided, one of Hermione's latent abilities emerged, catching her and a few of the healers by surprise. She tried to speak, to ask what was happening to her but, all that came out of her newly shaped mouth(s) was a series of chirps, growls and whinnies as her various Animagus forms appeared.

"Make sure to document everything, Dartmire!" yelled Marshbanks over the racket, "Miss Granger's going to need to be registered with the Ministry for all these species once this is over." 

The younger healer shook her head in mild amusement (having never heard the Elder sounding so flustered before) but, maintained focus on each of the witchling's animals as they surfaced, making careful mental notes of any distinguishing features for a detailed Pensieve memory to be collected and submitted later ('It would probably be easier to catalog what she HASN'T transformed into!')

By the time the last creature took shape (an impressive golden-colored Zouwu), Hermione had fallen into a deep slumber.

"It's just as well that Miss Granger is comatose," sighed Towbane, rolling his neck and shoulders to stave off a cramp, "I'm not undergoing any of these changes and I'm knackered, I can't imagine what it's been like for her."

"Enough chit-chat," growled Marshbanks, watching the floating diagnostics scan Dartmire had set up, "The next power spike is building, resume your places everyone!"

* * *

Less than ten minutes after Shacklebolt received Lupin's Patronus message, the Auror and werewolf were standing together outside the Gringott's branch manager's office attempting to gain entry, a snarling assistant to Grimsby blocking their way.

"Grimsby is busy meeting with other clients this morning," hissed Griphook, pushing the two wizards away from the door with a Knockback Jinx, "You'll have to make an appointment and come back after lunch, the first available time is at one 'clock. I suggest you take it and leave the premises or do I have to get security?"

Reluctantly, Kingsley accepted the offer for the afternoon meeting and dragged a grumbling Remus out of the bank.

"We can't just go!" growled Lupin, struggling against the other man's grip, "Hermione could still be in there, we could miss our chance to rescue her if we leave now!"

"No one said anything about leaving this area," stated Shacklebolt, barely maintaining his hold on the distressed werewolf, "Besides, I've taken the precaution of setting a number of monitoring charms, inside and out, of the bank. And, I'll be sending for two more Order members to meet us here to cover our posts should we need to take a quick break for food or other needs."

"So, don't worry, Remus," soothed the older wizard, "Malfoy won't be able to get Hermione out of these front doors without us knowing about it." 

* * *

Towbane and Dartmire, along with the four other Goblin healers collapsed to the ground in exhaustion while Elder Marshbank gently lowered Hermione back down into the purification basin. The stabilization process had taken far longer than Marshbank had expected and left the, once again, unconscious witch's chestnut-colored hair looking as if she'd stuck her finger in a Muggle light socket and her cream-white skin gleaming with sweat. But, the most intriguing after-effect was the bright, silvery-blue aura that temporarily lit up Granger's entire body from within.

"Sweet Circe! That was intense," exclaimed Dartmire as she gazed at their patient in awe, "Do you think whoever slipped Miss Granger those suppressants were aware of her special magical gifts?"

"I doubt it," replied Marshbank, pouring a conjured bowl of soapy, citrus-water over Hermione to cleanse her body and tame her hair, "That potion was strictly to impede her Omega presentation, the arrested development of her abilities was just an unforeseen side effect. Besides, if someone truly wanted to control the emergence of her latent talents, there are simpler and more effective means of going about it...a modified inhibitor cuff, for instance."

Turning to Dartmire, the Elder Goblin instructed, "Take over getting Miss Granger freshened up and dressed while I prepare her recovery space."

"As you wish, Healer Marshbank," responded Dartmire, thankful that this was the only detoxification scheduled for the day. Naturally, she had participated in her fair share of untangling magics over the years but, Granger's case was a whole other level of crazy complicated...the likes of which she didn't want to encounter again anytime soon.

* * *

Hermione groaned as her senses slowly returned but, made no attempts to move, much less, open her eyes as it felt like the Hogwarts Express had run her over more than once.

"Welcome back, witchling," soothed a mildly raspy voice somewhere to her right, "Don't try to get up just yet, Miss Granger. We're going to levitate you over to a more comfortable transition area, then retrieve Lord Malfoy and Potions Master Snape so they can help in your recovery."

That got her attentions and her eyes popped open, "Why are they still here, surely they left the first chance they got!?" she bitterly snapped out, immediately regretting that decision as her throat felt like she'd gargled sand.

"Whatever gave you that idea?" frowned Healer Dartmire, pouring one last round of clear, warmed up spring water over the shivering girl before casting a drying spell on her, "Elder Marshbank put them under a Somnus to keep them from breaking their restraints and jumping into the purification basin in some foolish attempt to protect you," she said, shaking her head at the memory, "If she hadn't, they would've compromised your entire cleansing process and we simply couldn't allow that to happen as you were rapidly running out of time."

"What? I don't understand...Why would they do that?...I...they...they don't even like me...I...I mean nothing to them," Hermione spluttered, her muzzy brain making it difficult for her to process and accept what she was just told.

The room fell deathly quiet as all the Goblins stared at the little witch in disbelief. "You DO remember that they are your Alphas, don't you, Miss Granger?" asked Healer Towbane, breaking the growing awkward silence, "You know what it means to be their Omega?"

"I'm not sure...maybe?" Hermione sighed heavily, her brow deeply furrowed in concentration, her earlier conversations with Professor Snape and Mr. Malfoy at the safe house shifted abruptly to a hazy image of a Health class with Madame Pomfrey and Professors Sprout and Snape, it was a bit disorientating. Scrubbing a hand over her face in frustration, she continued, "I'm afraid my memories are a bit shaky at the moment, everything's so...muddled together," she hesitantly admitted as she glanced about the room.

"That's understandable given everything you've just been through," stated Dartmire, handing Hermione a white robe, "For now, just get dressed so you can begin the next phase of your healing."

"But...I have so many questions," grumbled Hermione, gingerly maneuvering the whisper-soft piece of clothing over her head and sliding it down the rest of her body just as the healer levitated her over to the other side of the room.

"Those can wait. Your magics are decontaminated and your power levels have been restored but, your core needs time to recuperate from all the changes and, for that, you'll need your Alphas' assistance," said Elder Marshbank, her firm tone signaling that this course of action was not up for debate, "Now, settle yourself into that nest while I revive them."

* * *

Severus and Lucius awoke feeling worse than they did that weekend they'd gotten into the late Abraxas Malfoy's wine cellar and drained a bottle (or two) of the elf-made elderberry 1960 vintage that had gone a bit...off (What did they know about the stuff, they were only 12 and 14 at the time).

"Merlin's Balls!" snarled Malfoy, twitching about like a newborn Abraxan colt trying to stand, "What in the Nine Circles of Hell happened?" he asked of whoever was around to answer.

"Keep your voice down, Lucius," hissed Snape, wincing from the loudness of his friend's words and the sore muscles in his back that made their presence known as he attempted to sit up, "I know as much as you do, which is zilch."

A loudly cleared throat caused them to turn their cloth-bound faces towards the sound, "What happened, gentlemen," stated a weary Elder Marshbank, Finite'ing the sticking charm holding them in place and vanishing their blindfolds, earning her a deep growl from the two wizards as the sudden light assaulted their eyes, "Was that I had to sedate you two to keep you from trying to interfere with Miss Granger's procedure. But, that process has been completed and her magics have returned to their rightful levels," she added, waving them over towards Granger who had since been draped in a pearlescent white robe and was currently laying on, what appeared to be, a thick pile of goose down feathers, "Now, come along, it's time for you two to assist with her aftercare."

Seeing their hesitation to approach the extremely pale-looking young witch, Marshbank sent a mild Stinging Hex to their backsides, "We don't have all day," she said, warning them to move with a twitch of her fingers or risk a repeated zap, "Go on, she won't bite you. Well, maybe she will...if you ask nicely," the Goblin healer cackled wildly, especially, when the two men blushed a bright pink.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> somnus - sleep, slumbers, drowsiness
> 
> Hestia - Ancient Greek goddess of the hearth, family, architecture and home - greekgodsandgoddess.net  
> (thought this was a fitting name for a house-elf in charge of taking care of a magical school and its inhabitants 😁)
> 
> Zouwu - incredibly powerful and fast, elephant-sized cat that's able to travel large distances - harrypotter.fandom.com


	11. Chapter 11

Harry, Ronald and Neville were still discussing (well, arguing) about Hermione's chances of survival at the hands of Lucius Malfoy when the portrait hole opened up and Padma Patil walked through into the Gryffindor Common room, effectively ending their debate.

"Ummm, what are you doing here, Padma?" snarked Ron, glaring at the girl for interrupting him and his housemates' intense conversation, "Don't tell me Parvati or Lavender told you our password?"

"Of course they didn't," she scowled, offended that Weasley thought so little of her twin sister and their best friend and their ability to keep secrets, "Professor Dumbledore gave me this week's code himself so that I could meet with you and Harry about setting up a new training schedule for the DA."

"They don't have time to think about that!" growled Neville, stepping between the dark-haired witch and his dorm mates, "Hermione's been kidnapped and we're planning what we can do to help Remus and Kingsley get her back."

"No, we're not, Neville," hissed Ron, throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation, "The Headmaster's right, 'Mione's lost to us," running his trembling hand through his uncombed hair, "Look, it's been hours since Malfoy, Sr. took her from the Ministry and, let's face it, he'd be crazy not to have taken her straight to Old Moldy-Voldy."

"You don't know that for sure, Ron," frowned Harry, rubbing his scar on reflex at the mere mention of the wizard formally known as Riddle, "Why are you so willing to give up on Hermione so quickly? She'd certainly keep fighting to get you back if you'd been the one abducted."

"For the love of Merlin, Harry!" snapped Ron, his face turning redder by the second, "Even 'Mione would tell you it's not logical to think she ever had a chance to come out of this situation...unhurt...and you know it."

Before their arguments could get any more heated and come to throwing punches or hexes, Padma stepped in and cast an ice-cold Aguamenti over the trio of boys. Amid their sputtering, indignant yelps she snarled, "Oi! I get it, Hermione's your friend BUT, she's not here and I'm sure she'd be pissed off that you're carrying on like this," pausing to calm down her own rising temper, "Instead of wasting time on a futile rescue attempt and getting yourselves killed or captured, do something to help others prepare for the upcoming war. Don't you think that's what Hermione would want instead of...this", she said gesturing between the bedraggled looking group.

The three Gryffindor teens at least had the sense to look mildly ashamed of themselves, "You're right, Padma," Harry murmured, casting a drying charm over himself and his disheveled friends, "Hermione would absolutely hate us acting like a bunch of dunderheads."

"Yeah, she would," admitted Neville, attempting to straighten his mussed up hair by running his fingers through it, "So...what do we do now?"

Padma breathed a small sigh of relief, pleased that she wouldn't have to hex the Gryffindors into cooperating, "Well, let's just start with setting a schedule for dueling practice and go from there, yeah?"

* * *

With Elder Marshbanks leading the way, Lucius and Severus slowly moved towards Hermione only to have one of the four other Gringott's healers step forward and block their path. "Pardon my interruption Healer Marshbanks but, we can't let these two wizards near Miss Granger, not just yet," the younger Goblin stated plainly.

The weary Elder Goblin raised an eyebrow at the other healer, "Explain yourself, Shadowmeld," she snapped, not in the mood for any unwarranted delays to the healing teams already wrecked treatment schedule.

"As you know, my specialty is in curse-breaking and it has left me somewhat...sensitive to the presence of certain magics," he proclaimed, waving his hand over the two men to perform a confirming diagnostic, "Both of these wizards have been subjected to a Leeching spell and it must be removed before they can aid in Miss Granger's recovery, otherwise, the curse could easily latch onto her core through their Alpha-Omega bond...even an unconsummated such as theirs."

"What?! That's not possible, we would have noticed something like that," Malfoy scowled, outwardly affronted. Internally, though, he was slightly unnerved at the idea that someone like him or Snape, who were well-versed in Dark Magics, could both have been attacked in such a manner that neither of them were aware that such a curse had been performed on them.

Snape nodded in agreement with Malfoy before fixing a steely-eyed glare at the younger Goblin, "You must be mistaken. That spell is notorious for rapidly draining its victims' power, at most, people have a month before their magics become severely depleted," letting out a disdained snort before continuing, "Obviously, Lucius and I haven't exhibited any of the telltale symptoms of weakening that accompany this curse, either, or we would have taken the prescribed steps to remove it already."

Ignoring the wizards' outbursts, Marshbanks asked, "How long will it take to counter the Leech?" after confirming Shadowmeld's assessment with her own scan.

"For Lord Malfoy, three drops of the cleansing potion should have him cleared in five minutes but, Master Snape will need six drops and ten minutes as he has two such spells attached to him."

"Hells Bells! Well, don't just stand there twiddling your thumbs, Shadowmeld," exclaimed the Elder Goblin, hurriedly levitating the still protesting Lucius and, the now fuming, Severus over to the purification basin, "Lets get these men treated at once!"

"Not until you've answered some of our questions," growled Snape, figuratively digging in his heels at this point.

"Go ahead and sate their curiosities, Shadowmeld," ordered Marshbanks, flicking her wrist and unceremoniously stripping the wizards down to their birthday suits as she placed them within the nearby bowl-like structure, "But, keep things brief. They need to establish physical contact with Miss Granger within the next thirty minutes for her core to have any chance of being properly rejuvenated."

* * *

As the two Obliviated witches left the Headmaster's office, a small house-elf with long, bat-like ears popped into view before Dumbledore and bowed low, nearly touching the tip of his long, pointy nose to the floor.

"Missy Padma is now with Mister Harry Potter, Sir. Is there anything else Dobby can do for the Headmaster?" 

"No, that will be all for now," replied Albus, setting a large cardboard box in front of the little elf, "As a reward, you may choose one item from the Lost and Found before you leave."

"Oh, thank yous very much, Master Dumbledore, Sir!" smiled Dobby, happily digging through the mismatched and long forgotten bits of clothing, "Dobby's so proud to be helping the mans who saved Dobby's friend Harry Potter from that bad Missy Granger."

"Yes, we've got a much nicer witch to help the boy from now on," smirked Albus, lightly touching the side of box with his wand and whispering 'Stupify', 'Incarcerous' and then 'Portus' in quick succession. After the container glowed blue and disappeared from his office with the tightly bound and unconscious Dobby still inside, Dumbledore sat back down on his comfortable chair and sighed, pouring himself another large glass of Firewhiskey.

"That will take care of another loose end quite nicely. I do hope Aragog enjoys his late night snack."

* * *

The younger Goblin chuckled at the indignant squawk made by Lucius when the cool air of the room hit his bare skin, earning him another vicious glare from Severus.

"Was that really necessary?" growled Snape, directing his snarled inquiry towards the Elder healer as he hurriedly covered his suddenly exposed dangly bits.

"What are you complaining about?" she smirked at the flustered men, "Miss Granger complied with this part of her treatment without nearly as much fuss."

"Granger still voiced her displeasure and, if you will recall, we were both blindfolded while she..." Malfoy stopped in mid-rant, his head snapping around to look in the young witch's direction, hoping that she hadn't been caught off guard by their unforeseen...predicament.

Lucius' concerns were confirmed when his eyes caught sight of Hermione's rapidly blushing face, although, she made no move whatsoever to cover her own eyes.

Whether this was due to shock or curiosity, he couldn't tell...and, she certainly wasn't volunteering any answers at the moment.

* * *

As Hermione watched the two wizards (her Alphas, she finally admitted to herself) cautiously approaching her as if she were an easily startled rabbit, it nearly made her laugh out loud...could these considerably more accomplished and experienced men possibly be feeling as nervous as she did?

Giving them an encouraging, albeit, shy smile Hermione started to reassure them, "I know we got off to a rather shaky start with all this..." the rest of her sentiments caught in her rapidly drying throat, her skin flaring to a near glowing shade of pink as there before her stood two suddenly, gloriously nude, wizards.

Being the swotty, need to know-it-all that she was, Hermione took in as much detail as possible, wishing that she had a self-inking quill and parchment to make notes.

Of course, both men were very tall (especially, compared to her), each easily 1.95 meters in height, with a variety of scars across their skin (Snape more so than Malfoy) and both with that distinctive tattoo across their left forearms. But, where Lucius' well-defined muscles looked like they had been carved from smooth, white marble, Severus had a slightly sallow, leaner swimmer's physique lightly dusted with raven-black hair, an eye-catching trail of it starting just below his navel that lead down to...

"My, oh my, aren't you the lucky witch," commented Healer Dartmire as she leaned in close to Hermione's right ear, causing the young woman to let out a startled 'meep', "If I were you, I'd stock up on Stamina potions."

When her brain finally stopped short-circuiting from the Goblin's suggestive comments, Granger realized that Malfoy and Snape were still intently observing her, carefully assessing her reactions.

Of particular interest to them, at the moment, was the fact that Granger had yet to avert her gaze.

* * *

Lucius' tense shoulders relaxed, pleased that the sight of his and Severus' numerous scars and Dark Marks hadn't frightened their little Omega. A slow, beaming smile began to light up his face. "Well, isn't that an interesting development, my friend?" purred Malfoy, glancing over to Snape, "It appears that our little witch has regained her Gryffindor bravery."

"More likely, Miss Granger's insatiable curiosity has temporarily overcome her disgust. You'll see, Lucius, reality will soon set in and she'll start screaming and hurling insults and hexes as she runs away ('just like Lily')," growled Severus, tilting his head so that his hair fell forward to cover his paling face.

"Merlin! I forgot what a miserable sod you can be at times, Severus," said Lucius, reaching over and roughly shaking Snape by the shoulder, "Now, pull your head out of your arse and really take a good look at Miss Granger, that beautiful pink blush on her face says she thinks us anything but disgusting."

Snape cautiously lifted his chin, his hair continuing to cover his face enough so that he could observe Granger without getting caught. As much as he hated to admit that Malfoy was correct, the young witch did look rather fetching with that flush of color across her cheeks. And, the fact that she showed no signs of revulsion, or more importantly no pity, as her eyes continued to rove over their exposed skin was certainly an unexpected, and pleasant, surprise.

* * *

Severus raised a single questioning eyebrow as Hermione's whiskey-amber eyes met his inky black orbs, the unguarded interest she saw reflected back at her threatening to send her heart rate skipping about like a badly scratched vinyl record, her face heating even more as her blush deepened. But, before her thoughts could become derailed once again, a fevered memory that had been niggling around at the back of her brain clawed its way to the surface...something about flushing cheeks and increasing body temperature seemed familiar...followed by an intense need, the desperate wanting to be comforted and protected by...('Sweet Circe! How could I forget that!?') 

Tamping down those newly recovered images (and the muddle of emotions they brought with them) Hermione finally shifted her gaze from Malfoy and Snape over to Healer Marshbanks and began nervously blurting out questions that she'd forgotten she needed answers for, "Why am I no longer in heat? When will it start again? Or will it ever return? What do we need to..."

Holding up a gnarled hand to stem the flood of questions spilling out of the young witch's mouth, the Elder Goblin replied, "The cleansing treatment temporarily halted your heat cycle until your body was purged of all those toxic suppressants. But, until your magical core has healed, and your system has a chance to fully adjust to your restored power levels, you won't experience another Omega heat until..." Marshbanks paused a moment to consult Hermione's most recent scan before finishing, "the end of September, three months from now."

Healer Dartmire leaned in once more and whispered so only Hermione could hear, "Well, that should give you and your Alphas plenty of time to get better acquainted," she said, giving the young witch a knowing wink, "Without all those messy bonding pheromones getting in the way, that is."

Despite her embarrassment, Granger managed to silently nod in agreement ('Those will certainly be some interesting conversations, I'm sure' she mused as more troubling thoughts intruded, 'Bollocks! How are Professor Snape and Mr. Malfoy going to keep Lord Snake-Face from discovering my connection to them? And, what of Harry and Ron? I can't possibly tell them about my new status or my Alphas' names!...Merlin! I'm so fucked.')

* * *

Sitting on a throne-like chair alone in a manor ballroom somewhere in the middle of nowhere in Wiltshire, sat a milk-pale snake-like wizard. In his left hand was The Prophecy orb and within its swirling mists were the words that had changed the course of his life.

All this time he believed that the Potter brat had been the child foretold, the one born as the seventh month died, the boy that was going to threaten his plans for the Wizarding World...and, all of it was a lie...well, mostly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1.95 meters = 6 feet 4 inches


	12. Chapter 12

Several hours had passed since Professor Flitwick had sent Hestia on her mission and she was beginning to get frustrated. So far, she had checked the magical signatures of all of the house-elves that worked in the Hogwarts kitchens, laundry room and general housekeeping, none of which were a match for the Gringott's diagnostic scan.

Heaving out a deep sigh, Hestia headed towards the castle vegetable gardens and potions ingredients greenhouses where the last group of elves that needed to be tested were currently working, she didn't hold out much hope for finding the naughty elf there, either.

As the Elf-Matron Apparated next to Greenhouse Five, the one closest to The Forbidden Forest and Hagrid's hut, she overheard a conversation going on between the half-giant groundskeeper and one of the Forest Herd centaurs.

"One of our hunting parties found him in an Acromantula nest that's near the Western border of our summer encampment while they were clearing out a couple of the smaller webs," stated the imposing dark-maned stallion as he handed over a tiny, blanket-wrapped body to Hagrid, "We're sorry, old friend, the spiders' venom had already taken him beyond the Veil before Firenze could get him to our healers. We believe he could be one of your school's elves that simply wandered too close to the Forest and was taken to feed some of their hatchlings."

"I can't say he's one of Hogwarts' elves, for certain, Magorian" replied Hagrid after pulling a corner of the blanket down to look at the undamaged side of the elf's ashen-hued face, "But, I'll take him to Dumbledore, he's sure to recognize him if he worked here." 

* * *

From her hiding place in the shadows, Hestia let out a barely audible hiss. While Hagrid and his friend were busy talking, she had carefully reached out with a diagnostic spell, testing the residual magics on the deceased house-elf's rapidly cooling body...it was an undeniable match to Gringott's scan. 

The Elf-Matron knew she had to act fast, she couldn't let Hagrid carry out his task. She had no doubts that if the Headmaster got his hands on the unfortunate little being, he'd probably just destroy the body and any evidence it might have on it. Should that happen, she and the Charms Master could lose their best chance to link Dumbledore directly to the illegal potioning of a student.

Decision made, Hestia let her presence be known as loudly as possible. "Oh, no's!" she wailed as she stepped away from her hiding spot, forcing tears to her eyes with a subtly applied (but, mild) stinging hex to her abdomen, "My poor brother, Tippy, we've been lookings all over Hogwarts for him. Please, Sirs, can yous help him?"

After doing his best to console the distraught female elf, who made it a point to identify herself as Flower (a name that Hestia knew didn't belong to any of the Hogwarts house-elves), Hagrid handed her the re-wrapped body of her claimed sibling, "Thank yous kind Sirs. My family will take care of everything for our lost one, no need to disturb the busy Master Dumbledore," 'Flower' reassured Hagrid, bowing politely.

Before he could open his mouth to object, or offer further condolences, Hestia snapped her fingers and Disapparated with her 'brother' straight to Professor Flitwick's private office.

* * *

"Sweet Mother of Merlin! How does anyone survive this madness?" hissed Lucius as the Cruciatus mixed with a side of Fiendfyre level of pain ripped down his spine and through both arms, dropping him to his knees...or he would have if he weren't still being levitated above the purification basin.

"Stop your whinging, Lucius," growled Severus through clenched teeth, his nose wrinkling at the sight and smell of the oily, black sludge now pouring out of their left forearms like a putrid waterfall onto the ground beneath them, "You're treatment's nearly done. I've got six more minutes of this torment to get through."

Healer Shadowmeld shook his head at the two wizards as they continued to grouse and curse, especially, when they were being rigorously scrubbed, rinsed, dried and dressed after the Leech was finally removed from their systems ('How can human males claim that their females are the weaker sex? The young witch endured far worse for much longer and with fewer complaints. It's obviously a flawed assessment.')

* * *

Remus and Kingsley had just left The Leaky Cauldron after a much needed lunch break and were heading back to confer with the two Order members that were aiding them in surveilling Gringott's.

Arthur and Tonks greeted the other pair warmly but, had nothing new to report, the information from the modified tracking spell had remained unchanged, Malfoy Sr. and Hermione were still somewhere within Gringott's.

Shacklebolt cast a Tempus and glanced at the other three, "It's time for our appointment, Remus, let's go rescue our young friend. Arthur, Tonks we need you to remain out here should Malfoy manage to get around us."

"Not to worry, Kings," Arthur assured the younger wizard, a mischievous gleam lighting up his pale blue eyes, "Tonks has been teaching me a few rather interesting new spells and I would simply love to have Malfoy be my...test subject."

"You can do anything short of an Avada on that blonde git, just be sure to leave enough of that vile Death Eater intact to stand trial for abducting one of my pups," snarled Remus, his eyes flashing over to amber.

"I'll make sure he doesn't get carried away,"said Tonks, giving Arthur Weasley a conspiratorial wink.

('Not Bloody likely.')

* * *

Dumbledore was feeling pleasantly mellow after drinking nearly a full bottle of Ogden's. Too bad his good mood was once again interrupted, this time by a Patronus update from that damned werewolf, Lupin, and his goody-two-shoes fellow tracker, Auror Shacklebolt.

('Can't a wizard get a moments peace around here?!' he snapped when the silver-blue wolf strolled in and delivered its message.)

"We've tracked Hermione's and Lord Malfoy's magical signatures to Gringott's" said Remus' hopeful but, strained voice, "Kingsley and I are going in now to question the bank manager, Grimsby. Arthur Weasley and Auror Tonks are nearby in case Malfoy tries to leave with her. With luck, we will be bringing Hermione back within the hour."

* * *

Professors Flitwick, Trelawney and Sinistra, as well as, a large number of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor students on the seventh floor were severely rattled when the very walls of Hogwarts shook from an apparent explosion. Many of the younger year students believed it to be from a major potions accident (a few secretly hoping Professor Snape was finally done in by either Longbottom's or Finnegan's latest failed brewing efforts), that is, until a few seventh years pointedly reminded them that there were no Potions classes or detentions with Snape scheduled for that day and that any such blasts occurring in the dungeons wouldn't have been felt this high up in the school.

Whatever the cause, it had to have happened on the seventh floor.

* * *

Granger was preparing herself to observe the rest of Malfoy's and Snape's cleansing process when Healer Dartmire cast a spell bringing up a shimmering barrier between them, one that obscured all sights, sounds and smells emanating from the other side of the chamber.

"I apologize, Miss Granger," said Dartmire as Hermione glared at her from her chosen spot on the down-covered floor of the recovery 'nest', "But, based on your Alphas' reactions to this part of your treatment, Elder Marshbanks thought it best to shield you from that experience. Plus, she didn't want to risk damaging your weakened core with a restraining charm."

"Besides, there are a number of important things you need to be made aware of while you wait for your Alphas to join you," added Healer Towbane as he handed the young witch the records detailing what the Goblins had uncovered about her magical inheritance.

Hermione hesitated in opening the thick envelope proffered by Towbane, looking at closed file as if it might bite or hex her, "What sort of things?"

Towbane smirked at her, "Just read the paperwork, Miss Granger. I assure you, it's quite...informative."

Taking a deep breath, Hermione pulled out the first piece of parchment, her eyes growing comically wide as each long held family secret was finally revealed.

"What the actual Fuck!?"

* * *

Professor Flitwick was quietly tending to his third years' essays on the history and development of the Banishing Charm when Hestia popped into his office carrying something wrapped up in a blanket.

"I's found that naughty elf, Charms Master," she announced, uncovering the heavily damaged body of the unfortunate little house-elf, "We don't knows him, Sir, but his magics matches."

"Excellent work Hestia," praised Filius, confirming the elf's magical signatures with the scan his cousin had given him with a subtle flick of his wand, "This will certainly...." Whatever else Flitwick was about to say was cut off by a loud explosion.

Suspicious of the timing of this unknown disturbance, the Professor put in an emergency Floo call to his cousin, "Grimsby! I finally found that family heirloom I told you about but, will need to send it to you for safe keeping, I simply don't have the space to secure it here."

Grimsby knew something was wrong the moment Filius greeted him by his given name instead of Cousin, following his lead he answered, "Certainly, Professor Flitwick. I have a few moments between appointments, step on through to my office and we'll take care of that right away."

* * *

In a gloomy corner of his study in the 'borrowed' Manor house in Wiltshire, Lord Voldemort...no, Tom Marvolo Gaunt (he still despised his Muggle father's last name) stared at the dying embers of the fireplace as he knocked back the last of his rare indulgence of Firewhisky...the echoes of The Prophecy still rattling around in his head.

"Dumbledore has a lot to answer for, Nagini," he declared to his, noticeably smaller, and rather grumpy snake familiar, "But, first, I must finish collecting the other Horcruxes and re-absorbing my soul shards," he said as he slipped the still smoking Gaunt family ring onto his right index finger and placed the slightly tarnished cup of Helga Hufflepuff on the fireplace mantle.

"Not counting my lost diary, that makes three down and three to go before my magics are sufficiently stabilized. Until then, I need to bring forward plans to shred that bastard's reputation." 

"Now, what shall we have Rita Skeeter publish first?"

* * *


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small edit on Chapter 9 - fixed a couple of teensy omissions on Hermione's family history (Ooops, lol)

Flitwick had barely stepped though the Floo into Grimsby's office, with the unknown house-elf's body in tow, when a loud buzzing sounded from the bank manager's desk. The older Goblin grumbled an apology, "We will have to make this a short visit, Cousin, my next appointment has arrived and apparently they are somewhat impatient."

"Will you have time to hide this poor elf? It's important no one at Hogwarts knows he's been found, he's the key to catching whoever was dosing your student client with illegal potions," Filius stated, his face still a slight green from seeing the injuries on the elf's body.

"Not to worry, Cousin," smirked Grimsby, taking over the levitation spell from Flitwick, "Those two wizards can wait until I have this unfortunate little one secured. Now, hurry back to your quarters at school before anyone realizes you're gone." 

The petite Charms Professor bowed, "My thanks, Cousin. May your enemies fall in despair at your feet."

"And, may your vaults always overflow with galleons, dear Cousin," replied Grimsby, tossing a pinch of Floo powder into the fireplace.

Without another word, Flitwick stepped through the green flames and disappeared from sight. 

"Alright, my little friend," Grimsby said to his blanket covered 'guest', "Let's get you some place safe from prying eyes."

* * *

Emerging from his fireplace, Filius hurriedly shut down the connection, took a deep breath to calm his nerves and strolled out into the main hallway of the seventh floor.

Seeing a number of his Ravenclaw students gathered about in small groups speculating on the cause of the explosion, he cast a Sonorus to be heard over the low droning of their conversations, "Everyone get back to your common room!" he commanded, his stern expression discouraging any questions, "Professor McGonagall and I need to investigate this disturbance and we can't safely do that with all of you in the way. Of you go, then, and don't come out of your dormitories until she or I give the all clear."

As soon as the last student cleared the hall, Filius resumed his mission to suss out the cause of this disruption, hopefully, it didn't involve one of his students, he'd hate to have to remove a significant number of house points and assign detentions to any of his Eagles or worse, expel one of them.

* * *

Dumbledore was in a right strop. All his carefully restructured plans to supplant that Granger chit with the Patil girl and those two meddlesome Order members had to go and throw a spanner into the works by actually tracking down the Gryffindor witch! Now he'd have to come up with an alternative scheme to keep her from Harry before they brought her back to Hogwarts...but, what?

As he downed a vial of Sober-up and his mind cleared, a wicked smirk formed on his face. ('Yes, that would be perfect. I'll simply plant a few suggestions in Harry's and that oaf Weasley's minds and let their suspicious natures do the rest, by the time Miss Granger returns she'll be lucky if the whole of Gryffindor House doesn't hex her on sight. One can only hope their fierce rejection will be enough to motivate Granger to withdraw from school altogether.')

* * *

Strolling around the shattered bits of sitting room furnishings that he'd mangled during his fit of temper, Albus absent mindedly set about repairing the damage and vanishing items that were a lost cause all while contemplating the most plausible doubts to use on Potter and his ginger-haired friend. (It wasn't as if any of his parents' antiques ever held any sentimental value for him, only that his brother, Aberforth, didn't get his hands on any of the pieces).

The one thing that was still giving him problems were the blast marks left on the walls and floor. Scorgifying the charred spots didn't clean up everything and it left a noticeable dent on all the affected surfaces, plus, he couldn't exactly make those areas disappear into thin air without compromising the structure of the entire tower. And, he'd sooner gouge out both eyes than put up wallpaper. 

Compromising, he strategically rearranged a few of the bigger portraits to cover the burns on the walls and shuffled a few large rugs and chairs around to hide the streaks on the floor, it would have to do until he got a professional in to restore everything before Obliviating the decorator...can't have them revealing anything about the nature of the destruction, after all.

As Dumbledore put the finishing touches in place, he felt the ping on his wards letting him know McGonagall and Flitwick had arrived at his office. Not, that he was surprised, he had roughly shaken the seventh floor with his anger driven magical outburst.

Sliding his usual grandfatherly appearance into place, the Headmaster greeted the two Professors with a well practiced twinkle in his eyes, "Ahhh, come in Minerva, Filius. Care for a sherbet lemon?" 

* * *

Marshbanks had just completed a final diagnostic on Snape and Malfoy when the young witch on the other side of the treatment chamber began cursing a figurative blue streak.

"Miss Granger! Pardon, I meant Miss Peverell. Please, control yourself," admonished Healer Towbane, shaking his head in disapproval, "I realize this information must have come as a bit of a shock to you but, that's no excuse for such crass language."

"Are you Fucking kidding me?" snarled Hermione, waving a thick folder in the Goblin's face, "How else should I react when I've just found out my whole life was a lie?"

Well, that certainly got the two wizards' attentions.

Barefoot and clothed only in a white, silken robe like Granger, Snape and Malfoy cautiously strolled towards the seething Gryffindor with their hands held up palms outward in a non-threatening gesture. Lucius' attempt to soothe the distressed young woman fell flat, "Miss Granger, perhaps if we could just..." he didn't get another word out as her head snapped about, her fiery amber glare locking onto the two Slytherins, causing them both to pause in their approach and take a half-step back.

"That's not my name," she hissed, slapping the blonde aristocrat on the chest with the heavy stack of parchment, "Apparently, I was adopted and the people who I've always believed were my natural parents never told me." As Malfoy and Snape watched, Granger's shoulders slumped, they presumed in distress over this unexpected revelation, neither aware of the true cause...yet.

('Just wait until my Alphas learn about my cousins. Will they reject me and our bond over it? It's not consummated, surely, that would that be a possibility.)

Pushing aside these gloomy thoughts for the moment she added, "Worse still, Healer Towbane informed me that whoever gave me these gods-be-damned Omega suppressants severely compromised my magical development, whether that was intentional or not, they're unsure. Regardless, it's a Bloody miracle I didn't accidentally blow up the entire school!" she growled, her body visibly shaking, partly over this narrowly avoided disaster, but mainly, in anticipation of being spurned by her Alphas. 

"Miss Gran...my apologies. Miss Peverell's correct," confirmed Healer Dartmire with a casual wave of her hand, summoning a Calming Draught in case the young witch couldn't settle down on her own soon, "If Elder Marshbanks hadn't brought in additional help to control her wild power fluctuations, we wouldn't still be here to have this conversation and this part of Gringott's would be in dire need of extensive restoration."

* * *

Lucius was only half listening to the Goblin healer at this point, his eyes having been drawn to the first page of the records currently in his hands, his face draining of color when his gaze landed on the names of his Omega's next of kin.

('Fucking, fuckity, fuck! Our little witch's related to both the Dark Lord AND Harry Potter?')

* * *

Severus was torn. His Alpha instincts were howling at him to comfort Miss Granger (or Peverell, well, whatever her name was now...and wasn't that going to take some getting used to) or finding out what was in those files that was causing Lucius' abrupt change in demeanor.

In the end, curiosity won out and he took the paperwork from his blonde friend's hands and began to read, starting with the page that had thrown Malfoy for a loop.

At first glance, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, although, Snape did get a bit sidetracked, fixating on the death dates of Granger's (Dammit!) Peverell's birth parents. It was the same day as Lily's and Potter, Sr.'s, after all...certainly, that couldn't be a coincidence. And, yes, it had been mildly amusing to discover that she was related to the Muggle British Royal family (the irony of her nickname, the Princess of Gryffindor, was not lost on him).

But then, he spotted what had Lucius looking pale as milk and suddenly his heart was in his throat.

('Merlin's Sagging Hairy Balls! She's a cousin to The-Boy-Who-Lived-To-Be-A-Pain-In-His-Arse and the Dark Lord? Obviously, the boy wasn't aware of this connection but, had He found out about her and come after her family the same as He'd done with the Potters? If so, how did Granger (Bugger!) Peverell survive the Dark Lord's attack? And, who sealed her birth records?') 

Snape didn't have long to contemplate this information as Elder Marshbanks grabbed his and Lucius' wrists and dragged them into the recovery 'nest', placing them on each side of their little witch, loudly commanding all three of them to sit down and listen.

"Yes, yes. There's a lot for all of you to review and discuss in those files...later. Right now, you two gentlemen need to take her hands in yours and complete Miss Peverell's healing. NOW!" she snapped, her energy and patience having finally worn out, "And, don't leave this basin for at least another two hours. Should you need anything, stay put and call for Gem, she's the house-elf assigned to you," with that, Marshbanks turned on her heel and stalked out of the room without a glimpse back at the trio.

* * *

Rita Skeeter appeared with a loud pop of Apparation outside the main gates of Malfoy Manor, her nervousness making her stumble slightly upon arrival. Never in a million years would she have thought she would be personally invited to interview He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. (Well, commanded to appear would be more accurate but, who was she to quibble over semantics. Either way, this promised to be the story of a lifetime).

More surprising, the wizard himself silently greeted her at the front door, dressed in flowing dark green robes that hid the fact he was barefoot. And, the large snake draped over his shoulders eyeing her like she was a tasty snack was enough to keep Rita from speaking, for the moment.

After quietly leading the blonde witch through the foyer to the small terrace off the sitting room, Tom finally spoke. Once he called for a house-elf to serve light refreshments, he then invited Skeeter to take a seat around a wrought iron garden table comfortably shaded from the afternoon sun by an overhanging willow.

Following the arrival of the tea and nibbles, the raven-haired man turned his disturbingly crimson-colored eyes upon the younger witch, "Miss Skeeter," he drawled, setting a cool, pale hand upon one of hers, "How would you like to help me expose Albus Dumbledore for the fraud that he is to the whole of Wizarding Britain?"

The devilish smirk that bloomed across Skeeter's face was enough of an answer for Tom but, she still replied, "When do you want to start, M'Lord?", her acid-green Quick-Quotes Quill twitching in excitement over her notepad.

* * *

Remus and Kingsley entered Grimsby's office with an air of grim determination. And, it took a bit of restraint on the Goblin manager's part to not hex the two men before they'd even opened their mouths to speak. He'd dealt with enough wizarding folk over the years, Aurors in particular, and knew that they could become aggressive when desperate for information...and, that's exactly how these two appeared, agitated and in great need of answers.

"Good afternoon gentlemen, what service can Gringott's provide you with today?" quietly asked Grimsby, keeping a watchful eye on both men's faces.

"You can start with taking us to Hermione Granger," growled Lupin, his hazel eyes flashing over to amber, "Don't bother denying she's been here, her scent is fresh and all over this room."

Shacklebolt, who was marginally more in control, placed a hand on Remus' shoulder to calm the werewolf before he did something regrettable, "What my friend here means is that we have strong evidence that shows a person reported as abducted was brought into the bank and that she's likely still on the premises with her captor. We would greatly appreciate your cooperation with our investigation and, hopefully, aid us in the safe recovery this missing witch."

Grimsby bared his teeth in his form of a smile, he needed to delay these two for as long as possible to give the healers time to finish Granger's cleansing, "It would help if you provided a description of the person you are searching for, perhaps then I could better direct you."

Kingsley casually flicked his fingers and a wispy image of Hermione appeared in the air above Grimsby's desk.

"Ahhh, yes, follow me," replied Grimsby, standing and moving towards the hidden passage at the back of his office.

Knowing that his options for stalling were limited, especially, in the presence of a werewolf with heightened senses, the Goblin manager decided to lead the two wizards to an empty room one floor below the one where Miss Granger was being treated, 'letting slip' an embellished detail as they walked through the door, "The young witch you're looking for asked to speak with our healers, she didn't elaborate on why she came here instead of St.Mungo's. Remain here and I'll find one of the Elders who spoke directly with her."

Before Remus or Kingsley could object and demand that one of them should accompany Grimsby on his task, the Goblin manager stepped back towards the door and pressed his hand on a rune carved into the frame, locking the two wizards in the room.

"You Sodding Bastard!" hissed Lupin as he and Shacklebolt futilely tried to break the security ward.

"I'll have you know my parents were happily bonded before I was born."

* * *

Hermione shyly looked at the two men seated next to her as Elder Marshbanks and the rest of the Goblin healers left the treatment chambers, leaving the trio alone for the first time in several hours.

It was Lucius who spoke first, breaking the growing awkward silence, "Well, whatever shall we discuss now, Omega?" flipping open the folder setting on the young witch's lap with his free hand and pulling free the page with her birth records.

"Might I suggest finding out what name you wish to be called? Perhaps, Princess would be in order considering that you are royalty," drawled Severus, taking note of the lovely shade of pink blooming across on the young woman's cheeks.

"No!" she stated adamantly, wincing at how shrill her voice sounded, "Ron gave me that nickname in first year and I've never cared for it. Besides, I doubt I rate anything higher than a Baroness as far as the Muggle Royals are concerned. But, I rather like the sound of Maia."

"Hrnmm, it does fit your personality better. I believe in Greek mythology Maia was one of the Pleiades and the mother of the messenger of the gods, you're certainly a beautiful nymph as far I'm concerned," purred Lucius, brushing a kiss over the knuckles of their joined fingers, causing her blush to deepen.

"I prefer the Maori meaning of brave warrior," said Severus, rolling his eyes at his blonde friend, "Far more appropriate for a Gryffindor."

The beaming smile that the little witch gave the Potions Master made his heart clench in his chest, no one ever looked at him like that, not even Lily...well, maybe Lucius on rare occasions but, often it preceded the asking of a favor.

"Definitely, Maia...Maia Peverell," she replied, chewing her lower lip between her teeth, "Do you think it'll cause problems at...oh, Merlin...how will I get back to school? I can't just show up with either of you two. The other Professors would hex Mr.Malfoy on sight and I'd hate to think what they'd do to you, Professor Snape.

"After everything you've been through, I'm not surprised you've forgotten, Miss Peverell," smirked Snape, resisting the urge to reach over and pull the abused lip from between her teeth, "I have a plan in place to ensure your safe return to Hogwarts, once your healing process is complete. And, it won't endanger Lucius nor compromise my standing as a teacher."

"Now, can we address the proverbial erumpet in the room and discuss the issue of your cousins," said Malfoy, lowering his voice to a whisper.

"I'd rather kick a Nundu in the nads."

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maia - Greek origin - name means good mother, dame, foster mother; in Maori means brave warrior; Greek mythology, one of the Pleiades, the mother of Hermes - behindthename.com


End file.
